


Mama Used To Say...

by Punk_in_Docs



Series: Along Came Benedict: The Ben and Libby Saga... [9]
Category: Benedict Cumberbatch - Fandom, British Actor RPF, British Comedy RPF
Genre: Embarassing Parents, F/M, Sweet Ben, Sweet Fluff, Teen Ben Flashbacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-21
Updated: 2014-07-01
Packaged: 2018-02-05 14:53:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 26,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1822447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Punk_in_Docs/pseuds/Punk_in_Docs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I’m still deathly serious about our doing it on my old teen bed, in my old room, you know, I will not be so easily dissuaded.” Ben groaned.</p><p>“Benedict, you will be on your best behaviour this weekend, I mean it. No subtly groping my ass, no whispering into my ear all the filthy things you want to do to me when I'm naked. You will be the perfect gentlemanly model of decorum and decency.” She warned pointing a finger into his face.</p><p>He just smiled sexily behind those glasses, a naughty gleam in his eye.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Casseroles, Critical Wardrobe Choices and Cheekiness

**Author's Note:**

> In which we learn how much of a filthy, dirty, randy boy Benedict is. (naughty too)

 

“Which one would your parent’s like me in more?”

Ben peered over his black rimmed glasses, scanning over the top of the script he was reading, trying to get a foothold on the complex character weaved into the words on the page. But as Libby spoke in anguish, standing at the end of her bed that he was reclined in, reading whilst lazily slumming in his wrinkled white button down and old pyjama pants, feet bare, he looked grounded and in touch, and felt monstrously happy and relaxed. Libby however, was quite the opposite, she was running at a hundred miles a minute, trying to decide what to pack to take to Ben’s parents for the weekend. She was faffing and darting around between her case and her wardrobe, wearing a large pair of her, what she called ‘Bridget Jones granny pants’ large black, booty shaping things that did wonder’s for her curvaceous bottom. Her legs were bare and shaven, and on her top half she had on a grey jersey top. Her red hair was pulled up into rollers, and she was beginning to perspire from the number of times she had run back and forth from her wardrobe to her case, on the floor by the bed.

Ben looked up from his work, smiling lightly as he saw her holding up a teal coloured long sleeved dress at him, and in her other hand, a nice green silky dress.

“Why? They’re not the one’s sleeping with you…”

He joked in good humour. Ducking as she threw a pair of pants at him. Not for any particular reason, really. Its just that was the closest thing to hand, and he was being annoying.

“Please, I implore you. The wardrobe is crucial, I am sweating buckets. I can’t catch my breath, I don’t know what to wear, and I really _REALLY_ want your parents to like me this weekend.” She whined, voice going all pitchy and panicked.

“Libs, My parents possibly prefer you more, than they do me. You swap cooking recipes with my mother, secret cooking recipes I might add, and even they don’t circulate _outside_ the family. And last time we saw them, I had to drag you away from my father from the rate you were talking about gardening. Darling, trust me when I say, half your work is done, we just have to tell them.”

Ben explained, seeing her rifle through more of her clothes in agitation. His words were a passable attempt at being soothing, but clearly, it wasn’t helping all that much.

“Yes, but half the work is not done. I have to select my clothes very crucially here! No backless dresses, no tight slinky LBD’s, I have to think elegant, classy, carefree outfits that say ‘I am the perfect woman for your son’”

“You are the perfect woman for their son…”

Ben explained sweetly. Watching a black dress sail into the air and land somewhere near her door.

“That’s sweet darling. But is does nothing to ease my worries.”

Ben rolled his eyes under his glasses.

“I heard that..” She barked, from her head buried in her dresses.

His mouth gaped, before he shut it and frowned. With displeasure going back to his script.

“So, why can you not just wear what you do usually?” He asked, flipping over a page.

After there was a minute or two of silence, he looked over to her walk in door to see she was stood glaring at him.

“Did I mention I love you…” He squeaked, feeling the need to suddenly shy away behind his script at her angry look.

“Wear what I wear usually….” She repeated in a flat tone.

Ben avoided eye contact.

“Meeting the parents, Benedict, is not like dressing up and going out to a sodding party! I have to look elegant, but not posh. Pretty but not preened, and comfortable, but not too slouchy. It is a momumental task to know what to pack or take to wear…”

Benedict began to wish he hadn’t opened his mouth.

“My darling, May I just point out that you have been slaving over an oven for days to make your famous cakes and casseroles to take up to them, aswell as wine and flowers. Baby, you need to relax, They know you, whatever it is you’re worried about with them, you can talk to me about it…”

He couldn’t see her, but she was stood just inside the door of her walk in, hid from his sight.

“I’ve only ever met your parent’s as the capacity of your best friend…Never as your, _girlfriend_..” she explained in a small quiet voice.

Ben smiled, and threw his script down, nodding his head to beckon her closer. She wandered slowly over with a worried expression pinching her face.

He pulled her closer by the wrists, sitting her down on the bed next to him.

“They adore you. Hey always have, whenever I go to see them and you’re not with me, they always raise their brows and ask is we’re still friends, theres always been the insinuation from them that you should have been something more to me. Now, you are polite, you are funny, not to shabby to look at…”

She scoffed with laughter as he chucked her chin with his hand.

“… You are an absolute delight to small children, men, women and the elderly alike. You are enchanting, you make people laugh and leave them astounded when you walk away, and you won them over the minute you met them. You could rock up there in a binbag, or, failing that your ‘Anarchy or Dead, Punk til I drop, Never mind the bollocks’ t – shirt, and they would still adore you more than their own son.” He explained.

Her cheeks went red and she smiled as he kissed her softly on the lips in reassurance.

“I wasn’t _planning_ to pack that t-shirt…” She admitted, he laughed and smoothed a hand down her back.

“Promise me that you will stop worrying about what to pack…”

“Permission to worry a tiny bit..” she gestured, pinching a small imagined amount between her thumb and forefinger.

He gave her a look.

She backed down, hands in the air in surrender.

“Okay. _Okay._ I’ll be worry free…” She said softly. But she didn’t sound like she meant it.

“Okay, I think choices are, green halter neck silk, jeans and jumper, aswell as a dress down cardigan and casual smock dress for Sunday…” She admitted, looking back to her case.

“You’ll look lovely in whatever you decide to wear, Libs.” Ben soothed, having picked up his script again.

“Even my Billy Idol t-shirt?” She asked with a smile.

“ _Especially_ in the Billy Idol t-shirt…” He winked.

“Fiend.”

“Sexpot.”

“I think we’ve accidentally allocated ourselves those names..” Ben smiled.

Libby walked back through to throw more under things into her case. Smiling in easy confirmation.

“Well, I think over the past week or so, we’ve earned those devious nicknames..” She admitted.

“I think doing it in my old bedroom was on my list…” Ben purred as Libby bent over to reach her shoes.

She straightened and gave him a look. Which he smirked more at.

“So help me, Batch, I am not having sex with you in your dear old parents place, where they could stumble in and see.” She insisted.

“My room has a lock.” He growled with a smirk.

“Well, you better underperform so I don’t scream your name in the throes of climax then..” She purred.

“Not a chance.” Ben moaned.

“Oh, poor me..” She crooned. Standing on tiptoes to reach a shoebox atop a high shelf.

“I’m still deathly serious about the doing on my old teen bed, in my old room, you know, I will not be so easily dissuaded.”

Libby threw the shoes in atop her underwear, leaving her selected clothes up to hang so they didn’t crease.

“Benedict, you will be on your best behavior this weekend, I mean it. No subtly groping my ass, no whispering into my ear all the filthy things you want to do. You will be the prefect gentlemanly model of decorum and decency.” She warned pointing a finger into his face.

He just smiled sexily behind those glasses, a naughty gleam in his eye.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They both settled down for the night after a surplus of chinese leftovers and watching Robin Hood prince of Thieves, rolling around with laughter for half an hour at their respective Alan Rickman impressions. (Locksley, I’m going to cut your heart out with a _sssssssppp_ ppppoooooonn _n_.) before they both rolled into bed and fell asleep in one cuddled osmisis form of limbs, lazily smiling as they slept cozily in each other’s arms. As soon as the clock struck seven the next morning, Libby leapt out of bed and sprung herself into a vanilla scented bath, not wanting to wet her hair as she took it out of rollers, so it curled gracefully and bounced in a smooth yet tousled red tangle off her head. She whipped back into her bedroom in a towel and proceeded to pull on her clothes, this included a navy and grey cricket style cardigan, atop a frilly lacy white short sleeved dress, which cut low on her neck with scalloped lace, aswell as her fringed brown suede boots. The dress was cotton, and as it was a warm may night, she figured it would be cool enough. She sat with her back to Ben on the bed as he dozed, she was just sweeping on her mascara as she heard the duvet rustle as he sat up. He was able to best admire the scope of his curvy girlfriend from here, as her arms were pulled in front of her, and the dress was tied in a stiff bow at the back to sinch in her tiny waist proportions. The back dipped down low on her shoulders, and was trimmed with lace and the way she was sat with her dress tucked under her bottom, led him to have a very definite shape of her hourglass outline in the incredible feminine white dress. And my god, her ass was just incredible. He loved waking up to the sight of her in the mornings. He just smiled when he saw her. He loved the sight of her in the mornings, especially when his brain hadn’t quite woken up yet, he loved how he could just look at her – still half drowned in dregs of sleep – and feel warmed, like hot butter sliding down toast, from the inside out. He wanted the rest of his life waking up to this.

“You look very yummy this morning…” Ben growled from the bed over to her.

She turned as she was putting her earrings in, and smiled at him. Twisting round to give him a brilliant smile.

“You need to be up if we’re going to be away by 9, and be at your mum’s in time for lunch.” Libby urged, standing and crossing over to him.

She loomed over him, arms braced by his head on the pillow as he lay back on the pillow with his hair all mussed around the place. Arms grabbing onto her elbows as he moaned in not wanting to get up.

“Come back to bed, It’s early…” He whined.

“I’m fully dressed.” Libby pointed out.

“I have clever ways around that…” He smirked, eyes still closed.

“Ben.” She growled.

“Five more minutes…”

“You need to shower…”

“You offering?”

“ _BENEDICT!_ ”

“I love winding you up…”

Libby sighed.

“If I make you tea, will that get you up?”

“Mnnn……..Possibly,”

She scoffed irritably.

“What _would_ make you get up?” She asked.

“You pack some of that lingerie you brought and I may get up then - In more ways than one.”

“I meant what I said. This is to be a shag free weekend. Batch.”

“You say that now…” He grumbled with a self confident smirk.

“I _know_ so now.” She finished.

“I cant be in the same bed with you both nights and not promise I won’t stick in in you.”

“How romantic.” Libby said flatly

“Yeah, that one gets me all the ladies.” He smiled.

“Well it won’t get you this one, unless you get up, and get your five star ass in that shower in the next ten minutes, and keep it in your pants til we get home Sunday night.” Libby pressed firmly.

Ben opened his eyes a fraction as saw she was wearing her serious, yet kind smile, with her stern eyes. Her hair was hanging over her neck as she leaned over. He could smell the dangerously addictive perfume from where he lay under her.

“Can we at least cuddle?”

“Cuddling is fine.” Libby finalised.

“Kissing?”

“Kissing is fine, on the cheek or forehead in front of your parents. Not on the lips.”

“Where do we stand on tongue?”

“Don’t you even dare try. I’ll bite.”

She warned. Serious about their matter of celibacy for the weekend.

“ _Meow_ …” Ben purred sexily.

“Touching?”

“…Limited strictly to hand holding, maybe an arm around a shoulder…”

“So hand up your dress touching your thigh under the table is a no- no?”

“A very big one….” She bit out.

“ _That’s what she said_ …” Ben mocked.

“Oh, it’s like being in a sodding carry on film with you…Or stuck in a really bad O Henry erotica.” She moaned, but her voice gave away that she was smiling.

But it was Ben’s turn to groan as she pulled the cover’s off him.

“Come on, now _. UP! SHOWER!_ ” She encouraged loudly, walking back over to her case to do it up.

Ben whined.

“I’ll need incentive…” He purred.

“I won’t ask your parent’s for embarrassing baby pictures, or awkward teen anecdotes…” She promised.

“Yeah, that’ll do it.”

Ben explained, lazily climbing out of bed, shuffling to her bathroom. She heard the door shut after him, and then the hiss of the shower start, she hard the door close, and then the tell-tale sound of him humming as he washed. Today’s tune was ‘Another Brick In The Wall’ by Pink Floyd. She smiled and chuckled to herself, especially when he cried out the chorus, a very loud and abrupt, _‘Hey, Teacher! Leave those kids alone!’_ She laughed as she folded up her pants into the bottom of the case. She had taken the liberty of packing for Ben aswell, but really, the task was half for her, as she would put in the clothes of his that she preferred, the shirt that she liked best on him, or the one that brought out his eyes best. She softened and packed his threadbare Brooklyn bridge t-shirt as he loved it so much. Taking pity on her tall goofy calamity of a boyfriend/lover. She plumped the pillows and made her bed before she launched her case up onto the bed as she finished zipping it up. She felt a little bit sick to her stomach, she hoped this weekend went ok. She loved dear Wanda and Timothy to pieces, she could only hope they returned the sentiment now that she would be professing her love for their only son.

She was so lost in thought, she didn’t hear Benedict pad out of the shower, rubbing a towel to his wet hair with another slung on his hips, he bounded across the landing, still whistling to Pink Floyd, pausing and seeing Libby looking like she was miles away.

“Libs?”

He asked, she took a second before she snapped out of whatever thought was distracting her. Her electric blue eyes focused on his and she slapped a smile onto her lips quickly.

“I know that look.” He began, narrowing his eyes at her.

“That’s your, ‘far off panicked but trying and failing miserably to hide it from me’, look.” He finished.

“I’m not panicking.”

His eyes were widened as he pulled one brow up.

She suddenly looked very sheepish.

Ben sighed.

“I’ve told you they love and adore you, I’ll get them to tell you if you like… they’d do it.” He told her.

She bit anxiously on a fingernail. Nervous habit No.2 of hers.

“I just…” she paused, eyes rolling off to the side in thought.

“I want to be sure that I make a good impression as your girlfriend, I don’t want to embarrass you.” She admitted.

Ben blinked for a long while at her.

“Out of the two of us, which is the one who stuck napkins to his face, and photobombed irish rockstars at the Oscars?” He asked.

Libby gave him a small humoured smile at last.

“I think I’m the one who is, and who will continue to, embarrass myself. I do not want you to feel like my name associated with yours should confine you in any way, darling.” He pressed sternly.

“I mean, of course, please don’t feel that is a free pass to go out and become a crack addict, or go off and start a sex scandal anytime soon…”

She laughed.

“I just meant that, in a rather twisted way, that everything you do, and everything you are, I Love. And my parents love that too. And I feel nothing but pride and honour that you decided to let _my_ name be linked to _yours_ …” He said sincerely.

She scoffed with laughter and slumped into his arms.

“No one can talk me down like you can, Ben.” She admitted. Placing a kiss to his damp shoulder. He kissed her back on her tangle of scented red hair.

“No more worrying.” He asked as they pulled away.

“None.” She insisted. Leaning forwards and kissing him on the mouth with a firm peck.

When she moved to pull back, ben moaned and followed, sealing their lips once more as his hand came up to cradle her face.

“Now’s the opportune time.” Ben explained when he pulled back. “A decent time for a quickie before we hit the road, I’m only in a towel after all.”

Libby rolled her eyes.

“Clothes..” She urged, pushing his back into the walk in, where she had hung out his things.

“Oh, you owe me big for the no sex rule.” He warned.

“You better make it worth the wait then…” Libby smirked, leaning over the door.

“I better see if I can _make_ it through the wait yet…” Ben growled back.

Libby laughed ducking around the door.

“Am I sensing a glimmer of sexual frustration already?” She shouted through, bending over to pull on her socks.

“Most definitely…” Ben snarled. Still looking at her ass. Good lord, this weekend was going to be hard.

As Libby crossed the room with their case, dressed and ready to go as she pulled on her boots. Ben saw that she indeed meant the ‘no sex’ rule.

He could already feel the familiar twinge of a morning erection forming at his crotch. He frowned sympathetically down at his front, to his poor, disappointed, towel clad semi, looking so hopeful and eager. He almost could tell it knew it would not experience the warm and wet and blissful climes of Libby’s body any day soon.

“A shag,”

He informed it witheringly,

“Is what you, you poor bugger, are once again most definitely _not_ going to get this weekend.” He clarified quietly.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Mother's, Adolesence, and Breaking News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben's mind is launched firmly in the gutter in regards to Libby. Whilst Libby couldn't be more relieved, and learns everything about Ben's teen years...

                                                         

                                                 

 

“You know, You never told me that much about your life before your Uni day’s?”

Libby said as Ben shifted gears and wound his way through the small country roads. They were about half an hour away from the small village in Surrey where Wanda and Tim lived. Ben smiled and glanced over at her with a small smile.

“Well, my life before that consisted of Harrow, and quite bismal A-Level results…” He smiled.

“No, I mean in terms of, you know, childhood girlfriends, your first kiss, things like that. What bands did you like, what books did you read…” Libby explained.

“Well, maybe this weekend, you’ll find out…” Ben teased. His hand reached over the gearstick and fondly squeezed her hand.

“Come on…” She begged. Pleading with a smile.

“You know nearly all there is to know about my teen years, and I know suprisingly little about yours…”She pointed out.

“Come on, when I met you, you had spiky bright red hair, adored the clash, had about eight ear piercings and constantly wore docs, I kind of worked my way back from there.” Ben pointed out.

“Start with band’s…” Libby pleaded.

“Most important thing…” Ben added.

“Of course..” She clarified.

“And if you say ‘The Village People’ we officially cannot be together any more.” She joked. Ben chuckled fondly.

“Ok, from what I can recall, It was Radiohead, Talking Heads, 70’s Bowie, Everything But the Girl, Pink Floyd and I think, Deep Purple….”

“Respectable.” Libby complimented.

“Books.” She added.

“I didn’t really get into a lot of books, I did after Uni, but not before…”

“You’re getting on my bad side here, admitting this to an author…” She warned. He smiled.

“I think I read Moby Dick? And maybe Lord of the Flies…”

“What a bismal effort….” She mocked.

Ben smiled in agreement to her comment.

“Well, all that matter’s is that I’m well read and eloquent now.” Ben smiled, eyes flicking up to the rear mirror.

“Thank the lord for that. I was beginning to think we weren’t meant to be.” Libby jostled.

“You really think that?” Ben warned in a growl. Eyes glancing over to her softly.

She smiled over at him.

“Well, I’ll just have to change your mind then…” He said softly, hand abandoning hers and flickering his fingertips over her thigh. Her muscles leaped and she lost a breath.

“Ben, I really don’t want to die in a car crash. Focus on the road!..” She insisted, covering his hand with her own.

“I’ll have to bring you along on my next Jaguar shoot drive, get you behind the wheel, god, the thought of that turns me on like _nothing_ else…”

He grumbled, hand inching higher as Libby gasped and tried to half his advancing fingers.

“Ben..” She fought, biting her lip.

“Then after the shoots over, and you’ve handled the brute force of the sleek car, when no ones around, I’d love to spread you across the bonnet, and fuck you really slow, push my cock deep inside you, give the suspension a good rigorous testing…” He growled.

“ _Ugh._ ” Libby whined. “Your lack of respect for that very expensive car’s paintwork is appalling..” She joked.

He laughed.

“I couldn’t give a toss about the car, not if I get to be the one to fuck you In, or on it.” He raised a brow, eyes on the road before they switched to her.

Libby had to fight to remind herself not to get turned on my the way he was purring dirty words. Her other hand fought for the door handle and gripped it tight, she realised she could listen to his dirty voice endlessly.

“Don’t crash my car, Batch.”

She purred, gasping for breath as his hand moved slightly higher, drawing tantalising circles on her bare thigh.

He chuckled.

“I suppose I had better stop, wouldn’t want to turn up at my Parent’s with you all flushed and looking too happy, they might think something untoward happened on the drive up.” He smiled as his hand slid away, and Libby shot him a look.

Muttering an unheard. _“They wouldn’t be wrong..”_ under her breath.

He took his hand away and shifted gears.

“God, you must have a death wish..”

She rasped as she checked her reflection in the mirror, to find that indeed she was slightly flushed pink from his actions and words. The man could just breathe and she would want to jump him.

“Mnnn, death wish, not really. I do have a wish to see you handle an expensive car with me sat in the passenger seat getting you off with my fingers and voice alone…” He growled with a proud smirk.

“Of course, the car wouldn’t feel anywhere near as sleek, or responsive and powerful as you. And you know your my favourite ride…” He smiled. Turning to glance at her.

“That’s sweet darling…” She cooed. “And, you simply happen to be my favourite joystick…” She smiled.

He laughed loudly at that. She blasted the air con on her face to cool her reddening cheeks down. Ben saw and smiled inwardly to himself. He loved making her all flustered and flushed.

“So, tell me..” She asked curiously, ruffling her hair into the mirror, and pouting as she rubbed lip balm onto her lips.

“We’re you one of those teenage boys who collected posters of models straddling cars and bikes, all blonde with infuriatingly huge breasts, and cellotape them to the inside of your wardrobe so your mother wouldn’t see…”

Ben tried to chase away the image of Libby straddling a Harley before he answered – and before he got hard thinking about it.

“Well…” He cleared his throat sheepishly.

“They weren’t all blonde…” He mumbled. Libby smiled as his cheeks tinted a bit pink.

“Mhmmmmm.” She purred in disbelief. With a large smile.

“Come on, you cannot make me feel shame for having posters in my room, every teen did. Come on what did you have, a fangirly poster of tears for fears, I bet, or Judd Nelson… Every punk girls wet dream…” He growled.

Libby laughed and shook her head. “Oh please…” She began.

“Billy Idol, and Joe Strummer.” She pressed.

“That figures…” Ben smiled as he turned the car down a little road off the left.

“Did I ever tell you the greatest present Aunt Sam gave to me for my birthday one year?”

“No..” Ben asked, pressing for more.

“Joe Strummers Leather Jacket.” She beamed.

“That’s…. sad.” Ben huffed.

“Excuse you, I wore that jacket nonstop for about ten years. You know, the black one with all the stitched badges on it? And the safety pins through the lapels?”

“Did you hug it every night before you went to bed?”

“Hey, mock me, and I will show your mother those posters…” She warned, pointing a stern finger.

That threat was enough to silence him.

“Truce?” he asked with a smile.

“Yeah, alright. Truce.” She confirmed.

“Good, because we’re nearly there.” He finalised.

“We’re a good ten minutes away, or have you forgotten I’ve been here before?” She asked with a a laugh.

“No, just went into automatic, ‘meet the inlaws’ polite mode.”

“I see, so the last time you saw them, would’ve been with…”

“Rachel.”

Ben swallowed. Looking nervous all of a sudden. Libby saw him wipe a sweaty palm on his jeans.

“Ben, that wasn’t your fault. You know that. It was just, she wasn’t the right woman for you.” Libby clarified.

But then she saw him smile, beam, in fact.

“No she wasn’t.” Ben said, glancing at her quickly.

“And I couldn’t be any more glad about that. Because that brought me, you.” He clarified.

She smiled.

“You’re a soppy git, you know that?” She smiled. Ben heard the underpinned love behind her voice.

“It is in my list of flaws, yes.” He shyly admitted.

They started to curve around a large single track lane, over bumps and a small bridge until they saw the house come into view. It was a small quaint cottage, a cotswolds brick house with a large blooming garden full of colour, Timothy would tend to the gardens, making them look so full of coloured variety and life. The house was perfectly isolated off from the main busy village by a small lane, and several large fields surrounded it, full of bright yellow crop and green meadows. It was like stepping into the scenary from JR Tolkiens Lord of the Rings, especially with the powder blue sky and gentle cool breeze.

Ben pulled the mini into park, just up the end of the small drive. He tugged up the handbrake as they sat there in silence for a moment in the still car.

“Nervous?” He asked Libby.

She smiled and answered.

“No.” because she wasn’t.

Ben swallowed.

“I am.”

Libby looked a bit taken aback.

“What for? Ben they’re your parents..” She clarified, sounding a bit withdrawn.

“No, _oh god no_ , not because of you, my love! But, I. hadn’t even thought about how to tell them face to face about Rachel, and…”

He wet his lips. Looking apprehensive as they spotted Timothy wander back over the lawn from the garden shed, having not spotted them yet. His face drew back in slight worry on seeing his dad.

Libby reached over and took his hand. Squeezing it.

“If you need me to jump in and help you, I will. Just, nudge me or something.”

Ben smiled. Libby somehow knew that it wouldn’t come to that. But she offered it for the hell of it, and for the sake of his happiness.

“Thankyou.” He spoke sincerely.

His eyes flicked back over the garden to see his father still had his back to them.

He smirked, Libby turned back with her hand on the doorhandle, ready to get out. When she was crushed to Ben’s lips as he leaned over the handbrake and cradled her head in his hand, kissing her quickly.

“Ben..” She chided in a rasp when he pulled away.

“For luck..” He winked, clambering out the door.

Libby rolled her eyes and climbed out the other side.

She smiled and waved as She saw Wanda appear at the Kitchen window, the elder woman's face broke into a smile as she saw them. Libby beamed and Ben helped her unload the flower’s and casserole dishes from the back seat. They had just gathered all the stuff into their arms as Wanda flung open the front door and padded across the garden path to them.

“There they are, My darling’s..”

She cooed, Libby laughed, and Ben smiled warmly, as she still had a tea towel in one hand, and flapped it around Libby’s shoulders as she collasped the younger woman into a hug. Careful to avoid squashing the flowers.

“You, my dear, get more beautiful every time I see you. And I’ll say this every time I see you also, I know. But those sapphire blue eyes can’t possibly be real, now can they?” Wanda cooed softly. Libby smiled widely.

“And every time you say that, I Thank you, and then, I blush and hand you the flowers I routinely bring, even though you insist I don't…”

She said, handing Ben’s Mother the large bunch of Alstromerias. Hers and coincidentally, Wanda's favourite flowers.

Wanda smiled and hugged her again. Thanking her.

“It’s lovely to see you.”

She spoke, pulling back from Libby and going to touch her son fondly on the chin.

“When are you going to hurry up and marry this one, huh? You know I want some grandchildren…” She chided. Winking at Libby as she scolded her son.

Libby and Ben stiffened for a moment.

“So, the stranger to the house get’s two hugs, and your only Son gets told off?” Ben joked.

Wanda slapped him on the shoulder with the tea towel. Smiling warmly as his arms were laden down with Casserole dishes.

“You’re father’s about the place somewhere… Pottering about in his shed perhaps…”

Wanda waved off, moving to take a dish from Ben as she ushered them in the house.

“I Just put the kettle on, if you fancy tea? Or theres lemonade and Pimms in the fridge If you like instead…”

Wanda offered as they walked inside the cool shaded house, a might colder than the hot summer air outside.

“Tea would be great.”

Libby offered, placing the dishes down on the large dining table as they got to the kitchen, bustling around like it was her own house. In a way, it was, her home away from home.

Wanda put the flowers in a vase, and her and Libby chatted busily as they flitted about the kitchen, within five minutes of being there, she had donned an apron and was happily assisting Wanda in preparing lunch.

“You, know my dear, I think you brought one more casserole then you did last time. Mind, you know you needn’t. Although that Chicken fennel pot pie was divine. I must get the recipe from you for that…”

“And once again, you tell me every time I needn’t bother, but my mother told me that you never turn up at a host’s empty handed.” Libby insisted. Chopping up carrotts.

Ben, as always, slunk to the fridge and offered them both a drink.

“Pimm’s you two gassbags?..” He asked, slipping past Libby, cheekily brushing over her ass as he breezed past. Pinching her butt.

“Benedict.” Wanda told him off sternly as he smirked.

Libby stumbled into the cupboards as he felt her up, and shot him a look as he grinned filthily and opened the fridge. Reaching inside for the large jug of pimm’s. Luckily, Wanda was bent over to look in a low cupboard, prattling on about never being able to find the decent china bowls, so she didn’t see her Son pat Libby’s bottom affectionately.

“Keep it In your pants, you sex hound..” Libby grit out through her teeth, quitely so Wanda wouldn’t hear.

Ben smiled and winked lazily, pouting a quick air kiss at her.

He stood opposite her and poured the drink, before slinking around the table to fold himself into a chair and lazily glance over the newspaper.

He became aware of a shadow darkening the kitchen doorway as he looked up.

“Hullo.”

Timothy hollered, wandering in, and placing a large bunch of wildflowers on the table, next to his son, who jumped up to greet his father with a hug.

“Hi Dad.” Ben chuckled, clapping his dad softly on the back.

Libby turned and smiled, seeing Ben interact lovingly with his parent’s warmed her heart.

“Muscled up again Son? _Hm?_ What role is this for now?” He tutted.

“I’m sitting down now, and ignoring that subtle dig at my career…” Ben explained, smiling in good nature as he sat down.

“You know I’m teasing…” He explained with a chuckle

“Now where’s that fabulous woman of yours got to then?”

Libby popped her head out from Behind the fridge, she placed the cucumber in her hand down and smiled.

“Hi Timothy, you young _flatterer_ , you.” She exclaimed, crossing to greet him.

Wanda scoffed, sipping her Pimm’s. _“_

 _Theres nothing young about him, dear..”_ She added.

He laughed and placed a kiss on both of Libby’s cheeks.

“Now, I daren’t hug you, I’m covered in remnants of the garden, I’m afraid…” He opened his arms and showed her the dirty soil covered gloves and pollen stained shirt.

Libby waved him off with a ‘Pfffftttt’ hugging him anyway.

“Would you mind passing down some more of the Green fingered gene to your son…” She asked.

Ben smiled and tried to defend himself as Timothy gave a low disapproving ‘Hmmmm' sound, looking at his son with fake dissapointment.

“If you please, I keep plants…”

“How long to they live?” Libby asked.

He stumbled and stuttered for an answer.

“I’m not beyond gagging you, you know…”

He pointed. Eyes gleaming in pride and wickeness as he purred at her. His Parent’s unaware of the double meaning behind that reference.

“Now, now, we always taught you to play nicely with other children..” Wanda said, moving across the table where he sat, whisking the paper from his hands and placing large bowls of coleslaw and potato salad in front of him.

“Cold nibbly bits for lunch… Benedict, I brought that horrible spicy stuff you like.”

She murmered. Crossing back to the fridge, and handing over the salami that he loved.

“Timothy, for goodness sake, change out of that grubby shirt for lunch, we have company..” She exclaimed in horror, moving to pour Libby’s tea until the young woman intervened, and stated for her to sit down. Which she did gladly, taking up a seat opposite her son at the table. Handing out plates and starting to tuck into lunch.

Libby wandered back over with her tea. Ben gave her a saucy look and shuffled over on the cushioned bench, sliding across to make room. She smiled and sat down next to him.

“Come on, tuck in, _tuck in._ You both look far too thin.”

“But we do eat…” Libby defended, spooning stuff onto her plate.

“Well, you’re both far too beautiful…” Wanda added, smiling at her Son and glancing over to Libby. A dreamy look on her face. An expression that looked like she was imagining how blue their children’s eyes would be.

“That we can’t help..” Benedict shrugged with a smile.

“So, Libby, as you are the guest here, I will start with you. Now, a beautiful, lovely young woman like yourself, must be seeing a special gentleman.” Wanda enquired.

Libby swallowed, her mouth feeling dry as she tried to smile.

_“Well, I guess you could say that..”She thought to herself._

“Um, well, I, you could say, I…” She stumbled,

Luckily, Timothy chose that exact moment to re-enter the kitchen. Libby personally sent up thanks to God, and all of his cherubim, seraphim, saints, archangels, cloud attendants and beard trimmers that he had. She could now avoid the dreaded question, and her and Ben could unleash the truth.

They watched as Timothy excused himself and took a seat next to his wife.

“Sorry everyone, But, as they say, the Garden won’t grow itself..” He chcukled, helping himself to food.

“I’m sorry dear, Tim completely cut you off, what did you say?” Wanda asked.

Libby cast a shaky glance to Ben, who grabbed her hand under the table. And squeezed it hard, letting her know he was right here for her.

“Now?” Libby asked Ben near silently as she sipped her tea, preparing to answer Wanda.

“Now.” Ben muttered low under his breath.

“Actually, um, I am, seeing someone, and, he is _incredibly_ , special to me…He’s my everything.”

Libby spoke, words advancing slowly.

She looked sideways to see Ben smile and bolster her courage with that one look.

“I see, well, that’s lovely, and what about you, Ben, darling?” Wanda smiled.

“Any lucky lady friend we should know about?”

Timothy laughed. Spooning coleslaw onto his plate.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I’m seeing someone too. And, she is _the_ most, incredible,….. beautiful,… kind hearted and….. talented woman I’ve ever met.”

Ben ushered softly. Emphasis on each word.

“Goodness me, dear boy it sounds like you’re in Love with her…….”

Wanda explained unaware as she reached for her drink.

Libby let go of Ben’s hand for a moment. Moving to sip her tea again, she suddenly felt parched and panicky. Feeling very warm and unsettled. Awaiting their reactions.

As she rest her cup down again on the table, her hand splayed flat on the surface, But not before Ben’s slid up from under the table and twined his fingers through her own. Libby turned to look at Ben and he turned to look back at her with smouldering blue eyes.

“I am In Love with her.”

Ben smiled, looking right at Libby, with his head turned in the direction of his mother.

Wanda and Timothy could undoubtedly see their twined hands, and the loving looks the two were giving to each other. Suddenly, Wanda’s glass was lowered from her mouth, and Timothy paused mid air, potato salad nearly missing his plate as he looked at his sons hand on Libby’s and then looked sharply to his wife.

“Oh my gosh…” Wanda exclaimed. Dropping her drink to the table. “The two of you? You…” She beamed, pointing between them.

Libby went red and looked down to her lap, and Ben smiled, his thumb stroking over the back of her hand.

Timothy looked silent and tender, but also very, _so very_ , happy. A big smile stretched across his lips, just like the smile he had passed on to his son. And Wanda looked the same.

“How Long?” Wanda asked, looking so thoroughly heartened and ecstatic.

“A couple of weeks. We, haven’t told anyone yet, so, we’d appreciate if you kept it hushed, if only for a little while anyway.” Ben explained.

“… We wanted to tell you this weekend, face to face before anyone else knew. I know how much Ben loves the two of you, more than the rest of the world, and, so do I. It only seemed right that you got to know first..” Libby explained.

Ben smiled at her.

“Oh my goodness…”

Wanda exclaimed again, rising up and opening her arms, to crush Libby into her arms into a hug. Ben’s heartstrings tugged to see tears of joy leak from his Mother’s eyes. No matter what age, it was always so _raw_ to see a parent cry.

“Oh my dear, I always held out hope that one day, it would be you. Not that awful green eyed witch who turned out to break his heart, nor that daft blonde he met at University. Oh it’s finally you, after all this time, _oh._.”

Wanda retracted to wipe away her tears as Libby handed her a kleenex and smiled. The elder woman pressing a hand over her heart and looking utterly content.

On the other side of the table, Timothy swept his son into another hug.

“So, she’s the One, eh?” Tim asked.

Ben looked over to see his Mother offer Libby another hug, exclaiming how she was so happy for them both. Spewing on about weddings and grandchildren. (Plural)

And he smiled. He smiled so wide, it nearly made his lips ache.

 

“Yeah. She’s the one, alright.” He dreamed aloud.

 

“Well. Jolly good on you, old boy. Only that means I know owe your Mother £50, we had a bet going you see, I bet you wouldn’t do it within 20 years, and she bet 18….”

“Glad you’re making some charity out of my love life, dad.” Ben commented dryly.

Libby laughed.

 

“I’ll collect my debt after Dinner, Dear.” Wanda warned.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	3. The Sex Pistols, School Uniforms, and Posters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More filth. (Bit short this one, more to come...)

 

 

 

After Lunch finished, Libby and Ben hauled their cases up to Ben’s old room. As they had just ousted the relationship, they would both be staying in Ben’s old room. Libby walked in first, pushing the door open to see the room had dark midnight blue walls, and a pine dresser opposite the double bed, a small wardobe off to the side, and armies of posters invading the walls. It even smelt like Ben, a musky, yet masculine washed linen scent that reminded her of him now. She laughed seeing all the posters of shakespeare and various other plays littered around the walls, aswell as The Who posters, or Nirvana, she saw The Cure poster lurking somewhere by his bed too. She could almost imagine the lanky teen of the man himself stretched on his bed, music blaring through his room on the old casette stereo he had in the corner. She smiled, lugging her case over to the window, Of course, every spare surface was cleaned and kept pristine, Ode to Wanda there, She smiled upon seeing the photo frames of holidays and of him as a kid on the dresser. She stood her case down to see Ben take in the sight, once again of his old room. She had seen glimpses of it before, but all the times she came to stay with Ben and his parents – pre relationship – she stayed in the spare room down the hall.

“It still looks exactly the same…” He commented, chuckling.

He saw Libby laugh and step closer to the far wall by his bed, opposite the room from him. Looking intently at a ‘Bard’ poster.

“And here I thought it would be smutty poster’s of girls…” Libby explained.

Ben smiled, before crossing to his wardrobe and swinging open the doors, This allowed Libby to catch sight of several slightly pornographic posters, tattered and creased, tacked to the inside of his wardrobe doors. She laughed as she caught sight of a naked blonde with stars over her nipples, posing with one arm behind her back, and very tiny red pants on.

“Oh, you really were a teen boy weren’t you?”

“Hidden in the depths of my wardrobe where my mother couldn’t stumble across them…” He smiled dirtily.

Libby snickered, crossing the room to see the posters more clearly. Ben had an almost sheepish look on his face.

“So, tell me now, which of these was your ideal woman?”

She asked, folding back a bent over picture torn from a magazine to see a tall pin up woman in heels and black lingerie.

Ben was looking at her intently.

“Now, None of them.” He smiled.

Libby turned sideways and smiled, giving him a bit of a look.

“You know, what always puzzled me about these posters, is that these women were found in various states of nakedness, in some very strange places and positions.”

She tilted her head to inspect a blonde bending over – in a very small thong – in what appeared to be, a barn.

“Ah yes, I remember the days when I used to romp around the countryside in my pants, find a good old dilapidated barn, pull up my skirt, and bend over…”

Ben was laughing so hard he could feel tears. But she carried on regardless.

“….. Or feel the supreme urge to straddle an old tractor in my birthday suit…” She carried on.

Ben flopped down on his bed, chuckling at her, leaning back on one elbow and watching her as she examined his teen pin up posters of women. Dare he say it, she was more glorious now than _all_ of them combined. And the teen boy inside of him was partially turned on, and partially smug, he had a real life fleshy curvy woman, right here in his room. How he would’ve killed for this when he was a testosterone boy of 16. He only _dreamt_ of luxury such as this.

He couldn’t help what happened next, maybe it was because he was thinking about her, but he leaned up and dragged her arm so she walked over to the bed, before he tugged even harder and forced her to fall onto her back over his legs, collasped into a heap by his side. She chuckled, but not for long as he leaned over and examined her face from inches away with very sexy looking blue eyes.

“I have a girl in my room.” He stated matter of factly, sounding very impressed with himself. “ _AT_ last…” He purred, hand stroking down her thigh that was riding up over his.

“This room hasn’t seen a lot of action then?...” She asked, chuckling as he moved in and nuzzled their noses together.

“Well yes…” He growled.

“Dusting mostly..” He commented, she laughed.

“What? You are telling me that Britain’s sexiest man didn’t have girls up here for snogging fests when he was a teen?” Libby asked, shocked.

Ben tilted his head to the side and raised a brow.

“No, mostly just me and my right hand for company.” He winked.

Libby winced.

“How delightful…” she smiled wryly.

“…And you never answered my question…” She urged. Nodding to the girls plastered to his wardrobe door.

“Which one was your favourite?” She asked, kissing his neck and nuzzling into him as he leaned up and peered over their entwined legs

“I think, that the blonde with the stars on her nipples was always my favourite as a kid, but _as a man_ ….” He purred.

His hand slid up her dress and stroked over the warm soft cleft at the apex of her thighs. She gasped a smile and bucked into his touch.

“I much rather prefer the company of a red headed curvy sex goddess who is in my bed as we speak. And she isn’t printed in paper, she’s all flesh and bone, and she’s making me very hard…” He purred seductively. Kissing soft smalc up her neck between words.

Libby moaned as he nipped down her neck. Her hand pressing to his back as he rolled over her and growled pleasurably biting down on her, as if she was his favourite thing to sink his teeth into and snack on. Indeed, she found that his hardness was pressing into her hip.

“no.sex.rule.”

She fought weakly against his biting her throat. He paused and gave a growl of discontent, frowning deeply at her, looking like a sulky child.

“You know, that wasn’t very democratic of you, to suddenly unleash _this very_ unfair ban on our bedroom activities, without my consensus. I should write to my MP about this travesty…”

Libby smiled, knowing what impression he was hinting at.

“But, Ben, you don’t have an MP, you’re an anarchist…” Libby laughed.

“Then I’ll write to the lead singer of Echo and the Bunnymen…”

Ben smiled. Many times had the pair of them teemed up to watch the ‘Young Ones’ on his sofa on movie night…

Libby sighed, running her hand down the back of his neck as he loomed over her. She had to admit, their sex life was far too good to cut out of their day.

“How about, instead, a compromise?” Libby said with a smile.

“Will I get to fuck you?” Ben asked, winking.

“Yes…” She laughed, slapping his shoulder for his dirty language.

“Then yes.” He answered quickly, diving for her neck again.

“ _AH! but_ , All the previous rules I stated in regards to this weekend still apply, No PDA and keep it PG in front of Wanda and Timothy. With the exception that we may engage in the act, if, and only if, It’s very late at night, if you’re parents are dead asleep and won’t walk in, we do it under the covers, in the dark, and very, abominably, quietly.”

Benedict’s jaw twitched, and he didn’t look pleased, but he didn’t exactly look dissatisfied with it either, if the gleam in his eye was anything to go by.

“What about my right’s of foreplay?”

Ben asked cheekily, hands sliding up to grope her thighs naughtily.

Libby sighed, trust him to squeeze out every inch of the rule he could get by with.

“A quick few minutes before bed, but then that’s it. I mean it.”

She said, pinting sternly as If berating a small child. Who was being sent to bed with no supper.

“Would I be able to beg that we indulge a particular raunchy fantasy of mine, in here, later on…” He purred, twirling a circle on her stomach.

Libby smiled. Narrowing her eyes, sitting up on her elbows and leaning close to him.

“What fantasy is this…” She asked.

“Well. It involves, you. My beautifully, raunchy and saucy girlfriend..” He began.

Libby raised one brow at him, begging him on.

“Go on…”

“Wearing nothing but my Old school blazer and rattigan society tie, and a _very very_ tiny pair of red knickers.”

Libby blinked slowly, smiling.

“Anything else, my liege?…” She growled nicely.

“… Whilst I watch you slowly stripping your clothes off to the Sex Pistols…”

She smiled.

“That’s an alarmingly accurate fantasy. I can’t help but wonder if that has been carried with you from your teen years?” Libby asked sweetly.

“I always, shall we say, _thoroughly enjoyed_ , that mental image as a kid. A curvy, _live_ , woman. Scantily dressed in my school uniform, shaking her sexy ass to the Sex Pistols with very little clothes on…”

She inhaled a deep breath, eyes rolled off in thought.

“Well. You _filthy_ man. You’re lucky I’m so open minded.” She purred, kissing him on the lips.

“But I would need absolute free reign to seduce you long into the evening starting now, get the foreplay under way…” He smirked.

“I thought you might..” Libby sighed smiling.

“Is that a yes?…” He asked.

“It’s a ‘Give it your best shot, but it _MUST_ be subtle’” She argued. “ I don’t want your  _dear dear_ old parent’s thinking we’re just a couple of horny kids…”

She insisted. And Ben was inclined to agree with her. He didn’t particularly want them to walk in on anything untowards, but at the same time, she was yummy and sexy, and he wouldn’t be able to stop once he started. It was a toss up between the little red devil and white angel on his shoulders.

“Alright. Well. Tit for Tat. Subtle foreplay in exchange for sexy uniform, sex pistols striptease…”

He smiled. Stomach fluttering in excitement at the fact his teenage wet dream would come true, tonight.

“…And, when we get back to London, as we have acted out your fantasy, it might be time for you to act out one of mine…” She purred.

 _God,_ she was hot when she did that…

“Name it…” He smirked, groping her luscious thighs. Just as she would do anything for him, so would he, for her.

“Sherlock Belstaff coat.” She moaned. “Do you think you could wrangle it away from the costume department for a few hours?” She asked.

“ _I’ll get the riding crop…_ ” He purred, echoing the Sherlock reference in his sociopathic voice.

Libby bit her lip to cover her gasping moan.

“Come to think of it, maybe we are two horny kids..” She pointed out with a smirk.

“My darling, That’s the way I like it….” He groaned.

They leaned in to kiss sweetly, both eagerly awaiting tonights events. When they parted, ben stroked the side of her face with his hand.

“Well then, my dear. Let the games begin…” He winked.

 

 

 

 


	4. Too Much Bourbon, Kitchen Counters and Broken Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben is a honey tongued devil.....
> 
> (but then again, when is he not?)
> 
> Plus all of the above leads somewhere naughty.
> 
> The equation goes as follows; Too Much Bourbon + Kitchen Counter = Broken Promises.
> 
> Voila!

 

 

After Libby and Ben had partially unpacked their things, and returned back downstairs. They saw that both Ben’s parents were milling around, Timothy with a bunch of flower’s in one hand, and Wanda with a white card in the other. They were in the hallway readying themselves to exit the house.

“Oh, there you two are..” Wanda beamed happily as they walked down the stairs.

“I’m afraid Dinner will be a little later than planned tonight, I’m awfully sorry, very bad hostessing of me, Our friend in the village, Marjorie, has broken her hip you see, and she lives alone poor thing, so we’re just going to pop along some flowers and well wishes for her.” Wanda explained.

“You remember Marjorie, don’t you Ben?” Tim interjected. “Her daughter used to go to your school… She was your closest friends for a while I believe…”

“I do remember..” Ben recalled fondly. “We all used to call her Mad Jane.. .” Ben chuckled with boyish glee.

“She’s seen a child psychologist for years, she’s fine now.” Wanda exclaimed. “…And, Perhaps it’d be best if you don’t come with us, then.” Wanda chided in a dangerously motherly voice.

“We’ll stay here…”

Ben smirked to his parent’s looping an arm around Libby and tugging her close. She jumped as the sudden grasp he had on her body.

“We can sit on the sofa and snuggle, can’t we buttercup?”

Ben asked Libby, swaying into her with both hands across her stomach now. Nuzzling into her neck with his nose in a cute way.

Libby slapped one of Ben’s hands around her middle. Smiling coyly.

“Alright.”

Wanda smiled happily, gving the two of them a gentle humoured look. Throwing a velvet scarf about her shoulders as the summer air was cooling off now. Timothy was behind her heping her with it, before bracing the front door open.

“Well, Ben you know where everything is, treat Libby nicely, and make her feel welcome.”

Benedict purred a low, sexy, and unheard.

_“Oh. I will”_

Into her ear. Libby nudged him as Wanda carried on talking.

“And, Theres a Pork joint in the fridge I was going to roast for later.”

“Wanda, if it made things easier, I wouldn’t mind preparing dinner?” Libby offered.

Wanda looked upon her, shocked with a smile.

“I couldn’t ask that of you, dear. You’re our guest, we’re supposed to treat you…” She insisted.

“I really wouldn’t mind. Honestly… It’d be my pleasure…” Libby pressed politely.

Wanda and Tim shared a look, They always knew they loved this girl. Always hoped that Benedict would stop faffing about with her. And how he had. And they were delighted with that… They wouldn’t want anyone else for him, or, indeed, for her.

“We don’t want to impose you….” Timothy added. They were unfailingly polite people, Ben’s Parents.

“Please. I adore cooking. And Benedict here can help me, can’t you Pumpkin?”

She smiled, looking back and patting his hand. Ben gave her a terse look, and a smile.

“We shan’t be long.” Wanda smiled moving off out the door with Timothy behind her. Giving them a weatherd old wink as he shut the door.

Ben’s hands tightened immeadiately around her waist as the door was shut from the other side.

“Alone at last…” He growled, between placing kisses to her neck.

“Mmmnnmm…” Libby moaned, leaning back into him.

“Now we do Dinner…” She smirked, slinking away from him into the kitchen.

“You hurts me!” He called after her as she rummaged in the fridge.

“Stop whinging, and get your fine ass in here and help me…”

Libby called back with a smile, placing the pork joint from the fridge out on the counter, and tugging on an apron, reaching round to tie it, until she felt that from behind her, He tugged back harshly on the strings, bringing her body into his.

She smiled as she felt his hands run invitingly up the backs of her thighs, sliping gently past her ass and sweeping up the apron into a bow as his lips went almost immediately to her neck.

“You can’t have forgotten our little bargain already?” Ben asked. Smiling against her neck. His hands teased her hips naughtily.

“I hadn’t forgotten, I’d just rather not ruin dinner for your parent’s..”

She gasped biting her lip as he bit down on her neck. His tongue came into the fray to soothe the bite.

Bracketed in his arms she turned to see her imp of a sex god stood behind her. Smiling like a rascal and looking like six feet of pure seduction.

“Our agreement had no clauses on when I could, or could not touch you…”

He reminded her, leaning in and sweeping her hair up into his hands and holding her head with both hands as he arched up into her soft, warm body and gave her a deep kiss, her hands softened on the grip she had on the countertop, she was melting into him, moulding to his powerful body.

She moaned into his mouth, desperately trying to brush him away with a feeble hand pressed to his pecs. Her every nerve was softening into his hard body, and she both loved and hated it in that moment.

Mercifully, he pulled away for air, allowing her to be left reeling and spinning without his lips on hers.

She watched him swallow as she found her lungs once again.

“Now, what’s cooking good looking?”

He drawled with a lazy smile hands coming down from her head to rest on her hips.

“Well. I was going to do my onion and rosmary herb rub to the joint, then let it roast for two hours, aswell as a trio of sauteed spring vegeatbles and garlic mash.” Libby explained, examing the ingredients in front of her.

She heard Ben’s stomach gurgle.

“You’re going to be a dangerous woman to live with when I have to slim down again..”

He warned. Smoothing a hand around her as he went to find an apron, and she went to wash her hands.

“Right. You chop onions. You don’t cry…” Libby insisted, handing him a knife as they got to work.

Within ten minutes, they had most of the dinner prepared, ready to cook. They had the vegeatbles chopped, ready to saute later, the potatos were peeled and in the pan, ready to cook when the time came, and the Pork had been rubbed down with herbs, and was sizzling away nicely in the oven. And all the while whilst they were working, Benedict had kept giving Libby bedroom eyes as he worked.

She rinsed off her hands and tured to face him as she dried them.

“I fancy a stiff drink, how about you?” Ben asked. Facing her opposite the counter.

“Oh, go on then…”

Libby huffed, blowing her fringe out of her eyes, her cheeks were red and flushed from exertion near the hot oven, and she fanned herself with the tea towel. Ben was _very much_ enjoying the sight of her hot and flushed.

He crossed to the cabinet just by the fridge, stooping down and looking in, small clinks of glass bottles being rattled together came from in front of him, before he pulled one out with a satisfied sound.

“Bourban Ok?”

He asked with a small sexy smile as he showed her the bottle.

She glanced at the clock. It was only five o’clock. But, what the hell. She was hungry, and something told her it was either for the foor sizzling away in the oven, or for the man in front of her. A drink would be a welcome distraction…

“Wonderful..”

She smiled, taking off her apron and placing it back on the hook by the door. Ben retrieved two glasses from somewhere and poured a tiny amount of the american rye whiskey into each. Putting the stopper on he bottle and handing her a glass, clinking it with her own. She took a feeble sip, whereas he downed the whole thing in one.

“Well…” He hissed, after he swallowed it. Inspecting the bottle.

“That’s not half bad…” He raised his brows.

Libby took a small weak sip, letting the strong drink roll around in her mouth before she swallowed. She wasn’t much of a spirits person.

She winced as it swept down her throat. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it was, warming, a soft gentle taste that was just the right amount of sharpness.

“Too much for you?” Ben asked with a smile.

“Well. I’m all up for a sour whiskey, now and again. But neat is too much for me…” She insisted. The warmth already making her head fuzzy.

Ben smiled menacingly, from his stance opposite the kitchen, he looked both playful and calculating. He stood his glass down and sauntered over to her, placing his arms around her.

“My sexy little lightweight…” He purred, kissing the tip of her nose.

She smiled. But yelped as she then found she was hoisted up into his arms, and having her bottom placed on the counter behind her, his hands smoothing away over her ass as he placed her there, pressing his body between her spread knees.

“Ok, I’m not so inebrieted that I don’t kow what your doing…” She stated, cupping his neck with her hands.

“One sip of Bourbon does not a drunk make…” She spoke with a smile.

“But you’re nearly tipsy, your adorbale when your tipsy..” He moaned, closing his mouth over hers to stop her words.

Kisses with her were wonderful things. A lovely little trick designed by nature to stop her words when they became superflous and obsolete, instead the passionate twining of their lips could speak more volumes and scores of words then they alone, ever could.

His hand ran teasingly up her thigh, guiding the lacy white hem of her dress higher and higher as she tingled with awareness. Her hand stopping his own.

“Maybe we should continue this, somewhere else…”

She pleaded, Eyes hot and hungry and lips throbbing and red from his kiss. Cheeks were still as flushed now as they were before. He _loved_ her like this.

His hand glided further as her breath caught in her throat, and before she could fathom it, she was being kissed again, and slid into his arms once more, whilst clinging onto his neck, arching into him as she didn’t fall as he carried her through the kitchen, and to the little side room just off, leading into the conservatory. There were several upholstered chairs and a large sofa in here, and the heat was more prominent in the sun trap of a room, filled with well kept houseplants and stuffy air.

Her back hit the sofa first, falling ungraciously to the pillows below her as his body kept her there, braced on his forearms as he loomed over her and snogged her into oblivion with his talented lips.

She recalled all the fun that could be had, in simply kissing with him. He made it a sexy and exciting event, other previous guys she had been with, seemed alarmingly put off by kissing if there wasn’t a promise of sex attached to the end of it. Like there couldn’t be one thing without the other, and what was the point in bothering? But with Ben, there was always the assurance that the kiss could lead to more if she wanted it, and if not, then he would tease, seduce and lust for her until she succumbed. It was purely _glorious_.

His hand was running up her thigh again now, over the smooth shaven peachy toned muscles and creamy smooth skin of hers that he loved, and she detested. She had tried to rid herself of the lovely things for as long as he could remember, but, no matter how much exercise she did, she couldn’t rid herself of their supple thickness, same applies for her ass too, she was forever trying to tone and tame it into a, what she would call, respectable size that didn’t cause her to rip the seams of some of her tight dresses when she bent over. He found that visual sexy, if nothing else. He loved her body shape. He really did, with all his heart.

His fingers were headed on a nimble and teasing path into the laced hem of her knickers.. His mouth leaving her own, and devouring her neck instead. He was spurred onwards as he bit down on her throat, seeing her bite those kiss bruised lips and tangle her hands into his shirt, attempting to allieviate the mounting pressure of being so thoroughly sexed up by him.

“You are, obscenely beautiful, you know that..”

He purred, fingertips flickering over the hem of her underwear.

“So you’ve said..”

She moaned, eyes closing slowly as he nuzzled down into her neck.

“I mean it.” He purred. “I’m torn over what is sexier, that fact that you don’t give a fuck about wanting to be slim, or this delicious hourglass figure…”

His hand that was wandering down her thigh, stroked from waist to hip, following the steep peak of her curve that slanted out, and then in again for her trim waist, and then flared back out at her hip.

“Sinfully Gorgeous..”

He purred, sucking just below her ear, blowing hot breath across her lobe that made her shudder.

She smiled, cheeks pinkening in acceptance of his compliments. Some days, it was true, she marvelled in her body shape, not often granted, but sometimes. And other days she just wished she could shake off that pound or too, She wasn’t as heavy as she could be, put she could pinch more than an inch on her thighs and bum, her tummy wasn’t too bad, it was toned, aswell as her arms. She just flared out in terms of breasts, hips and thighs. And her legs were long, but sometimes didn’t appear so with the fullness of her thighs.

“Well. If I am to believe I’m beautiful, then you do to..” She moaned.

He pulled away, baring down on her with Bedroom eyes.

“I’ll happily believe that if you will.” He asked, demanding that his words be weighed truthfully.

She wasn’t aware that his free hand had moved up her thigh again before she felt it trace just inside of her knickers, over her sensitive sex that was aching for his attention. She moaned and closed her eyes.

“Yes…” She gasped, head lolling back on her shoulders.

He bit his lip and guided her knees apart with the hand that wasn’t pressed to her hot cleft, her toes curled as he left her dress where it was, just so across her thighs, and toyed with dipping a lone fingertip just inside her, swirling round until he felt her moan as he hit that particular spot, brushing against her clit expertly, in a way only he had ever found effective.

She opened her mouth to moan again, but had to buck into him as his lips closed over hers and silenced her. He smiled as he realised her hips were twitching, fighting with the need to stay still. And not arch into his movements, He broke away to attack her hot spot on her neck again, now two fingers of his were dexterously twirling inside and torturing her slowly. Building the intense need for release as he went gently.

“I love you like this.” He purred against her ear.

“Flushed, hot, sweet and signing with pleasure for me, you know, I think the only time I will ever be this close to god is when you will come screaming around my fingers, and call my name along with his…” He growled, sucking on her ear again.

She groaned, his dirty talk fluttering into her ear on that rough sexy voice.

“What I really wanted, was to do this to you in the kitchen. Sit your pretty ass on that counter and make you come, just like this. Or, failing that, spread you across the dining table and have my way with you til you’re spent, dripping wet and purring for me to stop.”

Her hips could not conceal their thrusting movements into his palm now, her clit brushing so wonderfully against his hand, she moaned loudly and clutched harder into his clothes, her gasp exhilerating him. The man could make her come screaming with a mind metling orgasm whilst she was still fully dressed. He hadn’t even removed her, now dripping, undergarments. Fingers rolling under the fabric to tease her, which made it all the more decadent and sexy.

His fingers curled even deeper into her now, and she laughed at the far off notion in her mind that told her she had warned him off a weekend of sex, like this. But, she fought for reason as her body was screaming for him, nearly literally, and his parent’s weren't around, so technically they were breaking no rules.

He kissed down just under her jaw as his fingers moved quicker now, curling and teasing until she felt her orgasm leap out of nowhere and cut off the flow of oxygen to her brain as she screamed softly as she came, the scream swallowed up by his lips. His and her undulations dying down as he teased her one last time, before dragging his wet fingers down and out from her, running along her thigh as they kissed, her brain too starved for air from her orgasm, forcing her to pull away and tangle her hand in his hair.

“For once, I would like to keep the ‘no-sex’ rule.” She panted.

Ben smiled from his vantage spot where he was kissing her, under her jaw.

“Lucky for you, I’ll always be around, ready and willing to do that to change your mind.” He nipped her throat.

She moaned.

“I thought this was about seduction, not completion…” She groaned.

“That was just my seduction…” He smirked. 

"The main event will be a far grander affair..”

 

Libby groaned sexily in exasperation.


	5. Dancing, Dinner and (Wink Wink) More Dancing: Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> first bit, Short, but sweet. Overloaded on sweet really,
> 
> second bit, holy hell is there smut, pure smutty goodness, enjoy......

 

 

 

After their little exercise regimen on the sofa in the conservatory, They straightened themselves out and carried on preparing dinner. Libby donned an apron again and got to work simmering the vegetables in the saute sauce, whilst cooking the mash aswell. As per her instruction, and much to his smiling glee, Benedict was sat opposite her, on the far far side on the Kitchen, seperated by three feet of floor, the dining table, and the kitchen island. And she insisted it would stay that way until his parents came back.

“I feel like I’ve been banished.” He grumped

“You have…” She explained, stirring the simmering potatos.

“Banished. And in my own house too.”

“A testement to how effective my _wiles_ are…” She flourished. Smiling.

“Your _wiles_ are indeed dangerously distracting, you know that.”

He growled hotly. Eyeing her ass as she stood with her back to him.

“Thankyou for the compliment. And stop using that honey-tongued sex voice with me…”

“Banished, _AND_ silenced. Woman have mercy.” He snarled with a smirk.

“This is for our reputations sake. I want to uphold my manner of adoration from your parents, which I doubt they will continue to hold, if they come home and discover us going at it balls deep on the sofa…”

Ben smiled.

“They raised a, horny, adolescent me, at one point in their life. They are not nuns, they know about the birds and the bees, darling.” Ben added.

“I just, want to acclimate them to the news of us.” She soothed.

“Believe me, they’ve been acclimated to that news for half of our adult lives.”

“So, you wouldn’t be at all bothered, if they caught us having sex?..” Libby asked.

“I would’t say that.” He shuddered slightly.

“I’d be embarassed, certainly. But you know I would _never_ sex you up if I knew it would allow us to be placed in a postion to get caught…” He explained.

“But once you have your mind bent on something you want…” Libby started.

“….I usually get it…”

Ben purred finally, she jumped as his voice was suddenly right in her ear, growling his sex voice at her. His hands going to the sides of her hips. He must’ve slunk across the kitchen silently when she wasn’t paying attention.

“And right now, I want you. I want you to squeeze my cock in that wet nirvana between your legs, and wring out every moan and drop of pleasure from me.. You always seem to know just how to make me cum so hard, that I have trouble seeing straight when you do….”

“Ben…” Libbys lips parted in a whisper.

“You had me not half an hour ago, coming for you.” She reitterated.

“Maybe I want it again… over and over and over….”

He kept mumbling and repeating his words as he sucked onto her neck, pulling her head to one side as she moaned and arched back into him.

“Still working on the seducing side of things are we…”

She whispered huskily in her gorgeous sex voice.

His hand slid low over her belly, stroking down to a dangerously sensitive place between her legs.

“What gave me away?…”

“Would you like me to answer that chronologically? Or in ascending order of evidence?”

She purred, smiling as he kissed down her throat softly, smiling. She could tell, she could always tell when those cupids bows were leering against her skin.

“I rather think I’d like to hear this…”

He explained, tucking his chin into her shoulder, and smiling, tracing two fingers down her smooth skinned shoulder in a way that drew goosebumps, admiring her scented red hair from up close.

She made no move to speak, instead arching her back and pushing her bottom towards his hips. Her clothed ass rubbing and mingling for a moment with his stiff groin.

He growled at her.

“ _Sexpot_.” He uttered.

She shrugged in a lazy carefree way.

“Whilst I make attempts to stick to our promise, like a well behaved man. Care for a glass of wine?” He asked.

“Oh I see what you’re doing now? Trying to get me drunken and loose?”

She accused, waving a wooden spoon at him from in front of her shoulder.

“I like my schedules and morals how I like my women. Perferably loose, stark bollock naked and amenable…”

He smirked, slapping her ass lightly before walking to the fridge and pulling out a bottle of white.

He fetched two glasses from the cupboard, and clicked on the small radio to a local late evening, easy listening station. Tellingly his parent’s taste, they liked gardeners hour on Radio 4.

There was some slow Jazz song finishing as he screwed the top off the wine and poured it, taking a sip whilst walking back over to Libby.

She thanked him and took a large gulp fo the glass. Letting the food simmer in its pans as she stood smiling across at him.

That was before a soft drum and a low male melodic voice purred over the radio, Ben twitched a smile and placed his wine down, making Libby do the same as he pulled her into his arms.

 

 _“Yes, I do,_ _I believe That one day I will be where I was Right there, right next to you And it's hard, the days just seem so dark The moon, the stars are nothing without you_

_Your touch, your skin, Where do I begin? No words can explain the way I’m missing you Deny this emptiness, this hole that I’m inside These tears, they tell their own story…..”_

Libby laughed as she was hoisted into his arms, his arms instantly guiding themselves into the familiar dance position, one hand at her waist, the other grasping her hand up, he rather lay waste to the wideness of their stance, pulling her to him, wanting to sway and keep her close. He smiled down at this red headed goddess of beauty in his arms, smiling and laughing as he twirled her around his kitchen with lazy, eased and unpracticed movements, luckily, no toes were trodden on as they scattered slowly across the tiled floor to the soft song. Her hands were placed on his side, and the other on his opposite shoulder.

 

_“You told me not to cry when you were gone But the feeling’s overwhelming, they're much too strong But the feeling’s overwhelming, it's much too strong_

_Can I lay by your side, next to you, And make sure you’re alright? I’ll take care of you, And I don’t want to be here if I can’t be with you tonight…”_

 

 

 

What they didn’t notice during their little dance, was that Wanda and Timothy were tottering back up the Garden Path, coming through the front door, shutting it silently after them. There was soft music and a wonderful smell of a roast dinner drifting through their house to greet them. Wanda was taking off her velvet shawl, when Timothy nudged her gently in the back.

“Dear, you may want to see this…." 

He smiled softly and gently. Sounding excited and tender at the same time.

She moved to stand just behind him, looking from the hallway into the kitchen door. And her heart just melted, and flew off somewhere in happiness and adoration. 

Benedict and Libby were pressed close to one another, swaying gently in a loving dance to the slow song, They were both barefoot on the kitchen tiles, looking grounded and happy, she in a cooking apron of Wanda’s and her lacy white dress, Her son was in a pair of jeans and a rather rumpled looking soft cotton blue shirt, sleeves rolled up. Wanda nearly teared up, clasping a hand to her chest and squeezing her husbands hand, she had never never seen her Son, her Benedict, look as happy as he had now. Eyes glittering with love as he looked deeply into the eyes of the woman across from him, who smiled and tucked herself into his chest, smiling gorgeously as his arms went around her, holding onto him with love in her eyes and her smile.

They both laughed in unison and watched as Ben swung her round, dipping her low, legs stretching out to accommodate lowering her body before he pulled her up again, chuckling as she laughed.

“We’re appalling dancers…”

Libby chuckled gently. Voice husky with love for Ben.

Wanda and Timothy didn’t think so. Not at all. There was nothing to be corrected or commented on about this moment. Because they both could tell that their son, truly, loved Libby. And to know that your child had found their life’s happiness was both a freeing and touching thing to behold the sight of.

“Oh, I don’t know, I think we make do….”

He smiled, passing her under his arm, and spinning her out before reling her in again. When he pressed his chest to her back, they laughed.

Their faces both dropped and they flushed both beet red as they saw Wanda and Tim smiling at them with raised brows from the doorway.

“Well, I’d vote for you if you went on stricly come dancing…” Wanda joked.

Watch where those hands are headed, son…”

Timothy warned as Ben's hands were scandalously dropped to Libby’s hips.

At his fathers comment, he snatched them away, to a more higher, and respectable, place on her waist. Smiling coyly.

“My goodness, my darling, that smells wonderful! Are you sure we can’t persuade and keep you here as a cook?” Wanda commented.

“That’s just the problem, You could very easily.” Libby smiled.

“Mind, I think I’d prefer you In London, feeding up my skinny boy…”

Wanda joked, gently touching Ben’s arms as he let Libby go, and she smiled and turned to the vegetables, neglected by their dancing and sizzling away in the pan.

“Well, I’m certainly working on that.”

“She’s terrible. My Dietician hates her with a passion.” Ben insisted.

“Well….” Libby scoffed. Timothy laughed at her comment.

“It’s suddenly frowned on to happen enjoying food?” Libby asked.

“To her, yes.” Ben answered.

“Shes practically anorexic…”

“I don’t want any of that nonsense from you!” Wanda warned, pointing a stern finger in Ben’s face.

“Am I to be told off for this entire weekend?” Ben asked, shocked.

“Don’t worry Wanda, as long as I’m with him. He get’s three solid meals a day. None of that rubbish!” Libby insisted.

Ben clasped her in a one armed hug.

“You’re going to turn me into a gluttoneous old man…” He smiled, looking down at her.

Wanda moved off to get a glass, and Tim was busy flicking through the paper for a second. Their attentions were diverted. Which allowed Ben a perfect opportunity to sneak his hand down and grab at Libby’s thigh.

 _“In more ways than one…”_ He winked.

She slapped his hand away. He got a kick out of pushing their sexual boundaries in front of others, that, she knew.

“Anyway.” Libby anounced loudly.

“Dinner anyone?”

 

She asked, ignoring Ben’s hand sneaking down to her ass again.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	6. Dancing, Dinner and (Wink Wink) More Dancing: Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Deux, Je 'taime, mon cher readers (I don't know why French.. it should really be Italian considering where this chapter ends up....)

 

 

 

 

 

Ben flopped down onto his bed a little while later, groaning with pleasure as he clutched his stomach. Her food was incredible, and he had gorged himself on it, the roast pork was about the tastiest roast meat he’d ever had, and even her accompanying vegetable dishes were amazing. He had wolfed his plate down and even gone back for seconds, His father doing the same, Wanda commenting that he never went back for seconds of _her_ roast dinners. Libby laughed and thanked them for their flattery of her culinary skills. But now, it appeared, Ben was paying the ultimate price for it. Libby smiled as she skirted around his collapsed body on his bed, even all the way through dinner he hadn’t forgotten his promise, one hand snuck under the table every now and then to drag and draw slow lazy circles up her thigh, gently brushing against her every now and then, causing her breath to skitter lightly in excitement, And after Ben had devoured his body weight in food, he had bid his parent’s goodnight, and assured them they were headed for bed upstairs. And while Timothy and Wanda were assured this meant they were going to bed, to _sleep_ , Ben and Libby knew they were going to bed, and locking his door, for _another_ reason entirely.

It seems, she had a fantasy of his to fulfil…

She began to slowly peel off her cardigan, stood next to her case, not in a sexy or showy way, just undressing as any normal person would. Lit only by the small bedside light by his side of the bed. She heard the covers rustle and shift as Ben leaned up from his back, onto his elbows to look at her as she did. She had her back to him as the cardigan came away, she threw it down on her packed case, and then moved to work out her earrings, and still, he watched her with the strangest sense of fascination.

“Stop staring. You’ll burn holes…”

Libby smiled, able to see the look he was giving her in the mirror by the dresser in front of her. But he didn’t care, he just smiled, lethargically.

“Then stop being so very good to look at.” Ben purred back.

Libby smiled as she moved to untie the bow at the back of her dress, struggling with the line of buttons leading down from the back of her neck. She had just gotten to the third one, when she heard him groan and move on the bed behind her, crawling to the end, until his large warm knuckles brushed against her back as he helped undo the rest of the impossibly placed buttons for her.

“Thought you were too full to move?”

She asked, her short hair going over one side of her neck as she looked forwards. Ben adored the sight of her in the half light, skin with that dusky shadowy glow, hair as red as ever, and as his hands brushed low on her back, he found her skin was alluringly warm and soft.

“Never too anything to assist undressing you.”

He mumbled softly. Finger tracing over the intricacy of her tattoo. She smiled, turning to look over her shoulder at him.

“You still want me to stick to that promise we agreed on earlier?”

She asked in a slow, smoky and husky sex voice that instantly made him hard when he heard it.

Suddenly, he didn’t care about the heavy pressing feeling of his belly being full of food, he felt hot, aroused and a little excited instead.

He scattered back across his bed and threw open his wardrobe, once again, the girly pin ups resurfaced and made an appearance.

“Sorry girls, I’ve got a much better real _life_ offer tonight, instead…” He insisted.

Libby chuckled at him as he rummaged around until he eventually pulled out clothing. Aswell as the unmistakable thin stretch of a tie.

She held up the blazer to her front, it barely looked like it would close across her chest, and the sleeves would come up around halfway to her elbows.

Ben linked the tie about her neck and used it to tug her close, wrapping the two ends around his fingers and reeling her in. He kissed her hotly and skilfully for a long minute.

When he pulled away, she was starved of breath.

“Well, I guess all that’s left is for me to go and slip into something, much less comfortable, and very revealing….” She rasped.

He smiled and gave her a sultry wink.

“No peeking.” She insisted as she began to pull off her clothes to change.

He closed his eyes and laid back on the bed, trying not to get too wound up by the sound or whispers of fabric being rushed off skin, he tried his best to imagine her in the saucy get up at his request. Revelling in the fact he had found someone so eager and willing to act out his dirty fantasies, he felt comfortable telling her, he never told Rachel or anyone else about them. Maybe it was because she was finally the right woman, _maybe. Just maybe…_

“Okay…” She began uncertainly. He heard her hand brush down the front of a blazer.

“Ready…” She said softly, He could just tell she was wearing a smile.

And as he opened his eyes and peered over at her, he saw that she wasn’t wearing a lot else, either. Naught but a sexy smile, ruffled red hair, a blazer that strained heavily over her amazing breasts, his soft yellow tie knotted loose around her pale neck, and laced blue, simple underwear.

Benedict gulped.

She moved one step closer to him, before he sat bolt upright, holding a finger up to halt her, before he slunk off the bed, leaning over as far as he could reach until he hit the play button on the stereo speaker. He bit his lip as the traditional Sex Pistol’s Sid Viscous gobbing style of singing blurted through the speakers.

_“I'm on a submarine mission for you baby, I feel the way you were going I picked you up on my TV screen, I feel your undercurrent flowing…”_

Libby laughed through that sexy smile, suddenly very aware of what she was wearing.

“Tell me, how exactly does one do a striptease to the sex pistols?”

She asked, chuckling. Unknowing that she was doing the exact thing at that moment to sex him up, swinging her hips slowly as she sauntered towards where he sat on the bed, smiling with lidded blue eyes down at him as she moved to stand between his spread legs as his feet were on the floor, and he was leant back on his bed, eyes darkening as the bulge in his trousers became prominent. He had to fight not to drool at the sight of her unsupported, luscious breasts peeking through the scantily clad blazer’s inappropriately low neckline.

She bit her lip surveying how much her barely sexy movements were turning him on. She slowly swayed her hips, hands slowly sliding up her front, a small whimper breaking her lips – mostly for him – as her hands brushed over her nipples which were under the blazer. His hips bucked at that sight. Hard on growing stiffer… until finally her hands smoothed over the swell of her breasts, until she came to the soft silk of his loosely knotted tie. Fingers fumbling to loosen it even more, hips still swinging as she pulled it off over her head, lassoing it to him, so the loop landed around his neck instead, and she pulled on one end to pull him closer…

He moaned a small turned on sound, before he sat up and met her halfway, hands going to her back as he leant up and kissed her ferociously. He groaned into their kiss, trying to pull her closer so he could fold her on his lap across the bed.

She placed a hand to his chest.

“Don’t be hasty, you bad _bad_ boy. I’m not even naked yet…”

She purred. Hands going to unbutton his shirt to halfway down his chest. He growled a frustrated sound at her as she pushed back up, her knee that was bent over his hip, went down to stand herself up between his long spread legs again. She licked her lips looking down on him, shirt spread open so his strained abs could be seen, clenching hard as he fought for breath, the soft yellow silk tie like an arrow, pointing down to his raging arousal that needed no signposts to point it out beneath his jeans. Her eyes scanned back up to his face, his lips were throbbing and red, kiss bruised and wet from kissing her, eyes dangerously black and lusty. Hair all mussed like a silky bronzed crown of curls on his head. He looked like a god sent _angel_ , but she hoped he would fuck her filthily like the _devil_.

Her hands lingered briefly on the button of the blazer that was bursting to contain her bust beneath it.

“Would you, like me to take this off, perhaps?” She moaned, asking him teasingly. His eyes were burning acidic and sexy into hers now.

“Yes.” He rasped sexily.

She saw his hands were twitching with the need not to reach down and palm at that lovely thick erection of his.

They both knew her eyes were drawn to that particular part of him that was straining up for release.

“As we’re indulging teen fantasies, my love, maybe you’d care to give yourself a bit of a hand…”

She suggested, shucking off the blazer, popping the button free so her breasts could be seen, nipples taut and stiff for him, he groaned as his hand practically dived for his erection at her given permission, throwing his zipper down and palming himself through his boxers, moaning at the blissful contact, at last. She threw down the jacket off her arms, left only in her sopping underwear. Feeling her own need slowly increasing as he moaned, hand tugging on himself, she felt herself get hot just watching him do this. Her name along with gods, and little brief ‘oh yes’s’ falling from his lips as he slowly stroked himself off. Libby eyed up his veiny, thick, blood flushed pink, long length with hunger.

His head was thrown back on the bed, as his hand moved faster, stroking harder and harder. He just knew if he opened his eyes and saw her hot tits, he would come all too soon. He could hear himself moaning louder and louder now.

Libby heard ‘Let’s go to bed’ by The Cure blare over his stereo speakers now, instead of Sid Viscous.

Suddenly, he felt Libby brace herself over him on the bed, fingers dancing teasingly up his chest, dragging over his abs and pecs slowly. She could see his hips were grinding down on the bed as he stroked himself fiercely hard now. His eyes were screwed shut tight. As he moaned and panted for breath. Her lips drew close to his ear.

“This song always reminds me of checkers, that Uni club we always used to go to, where they played all the old punk rock classics, I remember leaning up against a dark club wall, drinking canned lager and listening to The Cure with you.” She purred. But Ben could tell there was more to come.

“I remember thinking what I wanted to do to you in that dark club, with the red lighting shining down on us in that dark small corridor, you remember? The one with all the 70’s newspapers headlines plastered to the walls? Well, I remember watching you once, and just thinking I wanted you to tear that can out of my hands and kiss he hard on the neck, moving to unzip my jeans and shove them down my thighs, and either fuck me with those long fingers, rubbing against my clit until I came over your hand, whilst you bit at my neck. Or, I wanted you to unzip that thick wonderful cock from your jeans and beg you to pound me into the wall with it. Right there, balls deep and hard, in the half darkness, with people stood not three feet away, I knew I wanted them to be inches away while you buried _your_ nine inches in me, stood metres away while you worked on cumming inside me. I dreamt of what it would be like for you to curl my thigh up over your hip and fuck me so hard, you pushed me up your grip into the wall, and left black love bites on my neck. That was my biggest dirty fantasy. Fucking with you up against the wall of some dark, dirty punk rock club.”

“ _OhfucK!_ ”

Ben cursed, hand working faster now. Skin on skin slapping, forearm hitting his thigh as he was wanking fast, now leaking pre come at an impressive pace. Spilling all over his curled fingers.

She made sure to arch her back so she could press those stiff nipples against his damp chest, unbuttoning his shirt the rest of the way, spreading it open as she kissed down his chest.

“Are you going to cum, Ben?”

She asked lustily as she moved lower to where his hand was pistoning over his length.

“ _Yes, yes, ohfuck, yes.”_

He growled. Eyes opening at last to see her breasts and partially naked body loom over him, wearing that sexy smile. That was nearly enough to set him off. He was painfully close...

He ground his teeth as his hips leaped up to his touch as he worked himself hard and fast now. 

“I’m cumming...”

He groaned, voice raspy and deep. Libby smiled, looking down as his hand moved so fast now it was more a blur than anything else, gripping, squeezing and drawing upwards.

That was, before she leaned down and took his flushed, wet length fully into her mouth, sliding the wet chasm all the way down, hollowing her cheeks and sucking hard, hearing Ben let out the biggest moan she had ever heard in all her life, as his hand pressed the back of her head down and he came and came into her mouth. Flooding her tongue with his hot cum, ropes and ribbons of it shooting far down her throat at the sudden onslaught of her assistance. She swirled round one more time until he finished cumming onto her tongue. Moaning and panting as she pulled up and off, swallowing him.

His head hit the bed again, chest glistening with sweat, cheeks and chest flushed, thighs shaking lightly, cock now soft and laying wetly against his open zipper. Libby smiled self-confidently, aside from their first shared orgasm together, at her cousins wedding in her hotel room, she had never seen him cum that ferociously hard, or loud before.

He looked spent, a siren sunning himself on the rocks now, purring and consumed. Literally, quite utterly expended up.

She lay down next to him, seeing he was still panting, and his glazed blue eyes were staring up to the ceiling. Focusing on the space above him, as his hand sought out hers and squeezed it tight.

“ _My god.._ ” He purred. “I’ve never even…” He began, trailing off. Voice dreamy and unbelieving.

“I have _never, never ever,_ cum _that_ hard before, in all my life, ever. That was...”

Trailing off, again. Libby heard him shuffled his head around so he could locate her eyes and look deep into them. She saw his cheeks were still flushed and he looked dazed and stunned.

“You know how talkative and chatty I am. I pride myself on having such an eloquent vocabulary. But, Libby, at that, I am _speechless_ ….”

He complimented, leaning over and kissing her on the lips. She smiled into the kiss, playing out his fantasy was more fun than she’d hoped.

“Mmmnn.” He moaned into her mouth, breaking away briefly.

“… And I am taking you back to Checkers one day soon, and fucking you so damn hard up against that wall as payback. I got my fantasy, it’s only fair you get yours…” He growled.

“Belstaff and riding crop...”

She growled back, reminding him with a flirty smile.

“Anything for the woman who can do _that_ to me…”

He purred, still dazed from the afterglow, nipping down her neck.

She chuckled and looped her arms about his shoulders. She felt his fingers trail down her thigh, sliding down past her very moist folds under her laced knickers. She was _dripping_.

Ben sexily raised a brow at her.

“Well, as I got mine, It looks like you need to get yours…”

He moaned, rolling over so he was braced over her. She could feel him hardening against her thigh, again. How could he get that hard again in three seconds?

He nuzzled down onto her neck moaning, as his fingers continued to stroke and dip into her all too slick wetness.

“It appears you _really_ liked watching me toss myself off…”

He purred into her ear as she groaned. Hands clutching the back of his neck.

“My guilty pleasure…” She gasped.

“In that case, I’ll have no problem making you cum hard when we have phone sex…”

He snarled, curling two fingers deep inside her.

Her hips bucked.

“Just the thought of you palming over the delicious veiny, thick, fat cock, thinking of me and moaning my name is enough to get me more than wet, Ben, It’s enough to make me cum…”

She answered. Dirty words tripping from her lips so easily for him.

He shuddered against her with a growling moan.

“If you want me to cum all over your stomach, you better keep talking that way.” He roared.

“You can cum all over me if you want, I’d rather you did it inside me after fucking me, however…”

She gasped, rolling her hips into his hand as he moved to shed the rest of his clothing.

“What my lady wants…”

He punctuated his words by throwing off his jeans, shirt and tie, and moving to lie against the headboard, wriggling her out of her drenched knickers quickly and pulling her up over him so she was straddling him, his long wet cock brushing up against her thigh, strained upwards, pink and proud, nearly touching his stomach. Oozing pre-come.

“My Lady gets…”

He finished, taking her face in his hands and kissing her deep. She moved her arms to circle his neck, brushing down his shoulders as they kissed manically, needy and frantic. Wet lips clashing with mingled breaths, teeth and tongue. He loved the feel of her pebbled nipples and massive tits crushed to his chest. Slowly, she tentatively touched one hand down to his steel hard, velvety wet cock.

“That’s it...” He growled.

“Touch me, guide me in, swallow me up into that hot wet slit of yours…”

He urged, she arched up as he held her, moving him across her wet lips before sinking back down onto him slowly, the burning stretch a delicious strain down there, and she always took a second to accustom to his large width. It felt like he would split her in two every time.

They both hissed moans out as he sank all the way to the hilt, her hips rolling, him thrusting up for the remaining few centimetres of space between them. He looked down. Only to bite his lips at the sight of her heavenly breasts, and the sight of him slowly disappearing into her.

“Oh, Ben. You always feel so good…”

She moaned. Hands still on his neck, clutching onto his slippery wet skin as she rode him easily.

“I can never get over how tight you are…”

He groaned, as she rolled her hips with sinful skill. That, along with the enticing way in which her nipples were rubbing up to his chest with each thrust was, _divine_.

As his, and her, need for release grew, his grip on her hips became tighter, and he slammed himself into her harder, certain to hit all those little sweet spots deep inside that no one else had ever bothered to find.

“Oh, god, all those times Libby, all those times we weren’t together, in my wildest dreams would I ever believe I could fuck you, and make love to you like this, tear you apart with my cock, and fill you to the brim of bursting with my cum… Especially when I took you out to a premiere, I both dreaded and adored those nights, because I knew seeing you kitted up to the nines in a sexy backless formal dress, could only led to me tossing myself off to that image of you at the end of the night, the minute I got home. One time, I barely was able to lock to door behind me, before I was stroking myself off until I came all over the front of my new suit, imagining how fucking great you’d look naked. Wishing I could have the guts to tell you I loved you, so I could fuck you _just_ like this instead.”

Libby gasped, smiling as her forehead touched his, lips brushing just so apart, hot breath making one another’s cheeks flash as her sex rippled and convulsed around his cock, partly as she was close to cumming and because of his lewd visual that got her firing on all cylinders.

“I want that. I want you to fuck me whilst I’m in a long expensive dress, I want to be bare naked and wet underneath for you, so you could just gather up the fabric and take me wherever you liked, in the Limo, even. Or wait til we get home and fuck me there, If you were really desperate, I wouldn’t say no to you having your way with me in a toilet cubicle…”

Usually, she thought, she had much more class than that, shagging in a toilet cubicle, but once this man was inside her and pounding her into ecstasy with his talented cock that would put most porn stars to shame, she then found she would do almost anything for him. Say anything, be in any position, any little thing to please him.

“You know, next time I have to fly away for the film festival in Venice, I want you to come with me…” He burst out suddenly.

Libby opened her eyes and stared him down deep as he continued stroking that cock up into her.

“What?” She panted.

“Come to Venice with me. You can don a silky red dress, naked underneath and have your sexy Eva Green Bond Girl moment in the expensive hotel, We can go a few weeks early and travel down from Florence on a sleeper train like you wanted, in style of sexy Chanel advert. I’d love to do that with you. As long as you agreed to fly over with me on one of those red eye flights with individual cabins so we could join the mile high club…”

He moaned, fucking her relentlessly all the while.

“You couldn’t have asked me this, after you made me cum?”

Libby moaned with a smile, kissing his lips as she bucked wildly. Oh, he always knew how to hit that spot. Ben had to bite his lip and screw his eyes shut, if he had to see her tits and her wet pussy enveloping him in that moment, he would cum before she did, and he wanted to finish this race with her having an orgasm aswell as him.

He suddenly felt her tighten and shudder, sex gripping him tight, as the wet unadultered sounds of their fucking indicated she was cumming too.

“Ben...” She whined in pre warning.

He slammed his hips down two or three more times, her tight slit milking him of every drop as she came, her cum soaking the length of him as she did too. Moaning loud into his ear, and clutching at his hair with fisted hands, so hard it nearly hurt, burning his scalp, but he just smiled and reminded himself that she was cumming hard, and grabbing onto him with all she had as she screamed softly into his ear in a moan.

He slowly moved into her deep a couple more times, hands lazily holding her hips, gently easing and guiding his softening length into her, loving the sight of his length drenched in their mixed release. Loving how it was slicking to the insides of her thighs. It was dirty little thing, but it was _very good_ , and worth it, if the mind melting orgasms that had numbed their bodies and brains, were anything to go by.

Ben shifted her over so she was rolling onto her back, he eased the covers off her, and folded them over her spent naked body, tucking it in around her so her cooling off didn’t leave her chilly. He draped an arm across her, reaching to turn off ‘All Cried Out’ by Alison Moyet on the Stereo, and as the room faded into silence, just the rustling whisper of bedclothes moving, and the sound of Ben sliding to turn off the light, the room fell into darkness too. The only light being the small square patch of silver moonlight that highlighted them in an ethereal square on the bed. Masking their skin porcelain white, making Libby’s eyes look so pretty and blue.

He draped an arm across her stomach, and settled down on his front, with his face turned into the side, facing into the crook of her neck as she idly swirled her hands through his scalp, brushing across the damp curls at the nape of his long tapered neck, illuminated by the moonlight, she was still led on her back, purring in disbursed contentment as she closed her eyes and let a dreamy smile play centre stage on her lips as his lips puckered onto her collarbone, teasing her softly, heading down her breast, sucking where he saw fit, lapping up the sweet taste of her sweat on her skin that he made gather there, and which he would gladly lick off.

“So.”

She spoke softly after a while, After Ben was sure they had both nearly fallen into a drowsy, much-deserved-shag-tuckered-out, state of sleep.

“Venice, Hmm?”

She asked, looking out of the window at the bright moon, but softly aiming her words at him.

Ben was looking at the moon too. Arm still draped over belly as he held her closer, kissing her pulse point in her throat that was calm and dormant now.

“Venice.” He finalized.

“You’re sure you want me to go with you?” She asked. But they both knew the answer.

“Abso-fucking-lutely” He growled, eyes closed with a cheeky smirk.

“If your mother ever hears that gutter mouth you have on you…” She chided in warning.

He chuckled, chest humming against her side as he did.

“There’s a catch to Venice, however…” He growled.

“Something to do with Lingerie?” Libby asked cheekily.

“Surprisingly, No.” Ben spoke seriously.

“I would want to go with you outed as my Girlfriend to the world press.” He spoke sternly.

It was Libby’s turn to be speechless now.

“You’re sure you want that out?”

“Why would I not?”

“Ben, you know some people are bound to say some, _varied_ , things, regarding you and me…” She winced.

“Then, in that case, Fuck them all.” He said with a lazy smile.

“Ben…” She urged, pleading for seriousness.

“Libby, I Love you. I Love you, and I’m most probably going to marry you and have lots of sex and babies with you. I want the entirety of this nosy world press to know that we are together, and I understand if you are cautious about this, I am too, I fear for my blood pressure, as I will want to rip the throats out of any journalist who should dare write in offense about you, but, my dear, In Three or four weeks, I have a press statement to make, In London, at the Savoy Hotel, and I am going to tell everyone that I am dating Libby Turner, from the burrow of Chelsea, bred of Oxfordshire. And I have loved her for sixteen long years, she is my best friend, and she is my curvy, sexy, talented, wonderful, red headed calamity, whom I am going to spend the remainder of my long life with.”

If she wasn’t speechless before, she was now. A tiny tear shrank down her cheek, a little drop of pure shrunken starlight.

“You’re going to marry and have babies with me?” She asked.

Ben smiled against her neck. Twining her hand with his. Holding tight, and never letting go.

“Probably.” He smiled.

But to both of them, that sounded more like a   _‘definitely….'_

 


	7. Lazy Sundays, Long Talks, and Sweet Spring Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fluff again, after that turbulent smut in the last chapter... I don't have to sell my soul for this one... - enjoy

 

 

“I can vividly remember the first time I saw you…”

Ben purred, stroking up and down her arm gently as they lay entwined with one another.

His voice was still husky from sleep, and his tone trembled and stumbled with his first words of the day catching in his throat. His eyes were reluctant and just shy of open, like a newborn blinking into the light.

Libby chuckled against him, her cheek rested on his slowly breathing chest, rising and falling softly, feeling his sparse chest hair brush against her skin, breathing in the warm clean scent she associated with his musky skin. Her thigh pulled over his hip as their legs twined together under the covers.

“I remember, even though I was on stage, this spotlight from out of nowhere just hit you, illuminating all tall 6 feet of you, like a tall cool glass of water, _God_ , when I first clapped eyes on you in that crowd, my knees went like spaghetti…” She smiled fondly.

“And you had to look all sophisticated and sexy with your dancing and singing like Sally Bowles, as I recall it.”

He mumbled, finger dipping into the dent of her spine as she curled into him.

“That was bloody hard work when I couldn’t stop ogling you, your face was my focal point of that crowd, Ben.” She smiled.

He chuckled, proudly. “Glad to hear it.” He laughed.

“I think for the entirety of our conversation after, your opening line made me so nervous, I tried to look confident and light a cigarette. I spent a solid ten minutes lighting the bloody wrong end…” He admitted.

Libby chuckled, and placed a kiss to his soft skinned clavicle that smelt like his cologne.

“You did fine. Did you happen to notice, per chance, that my hands were shaking the entire time we talked?”

“Seriously? Wow, we were a smooth power couple from the start, then…” He mumbled.

“Trés smooth.” Libby beamed.

“Almost hard to believe that it took us sixteen years, to be able to get to this point…” He smiled, closing his eyes and smoothing his hands over whatever bare inch of skin of hers he could reach first.

“Well, look at the positive sides of that little gap…” Libby started.

“We’re both in a less turbulent, and stressful University environment now, both, _kind of_ , mature adults, who happen to have the sex drives of hormonal adolescents _by the way_ …”

She purred in congratulations and odes to their sex life, making Ben smile.

“We both got where we wanted to be in life, You couldn’t be more famous if you tried, and you have legions of women who would gladly shed their knickers for you, I even believe there are Facebook pages for your fans which are dedicated solely to studying the intricacy of your hands…” She commented.

Ben’s eyes opened, “My hands?” He asked I disbelief.

“Martin showed me once…” Libby answered.

“I’ll get him for that one…”

Ben smiled, growling promisingly, closing his eyes again and making a mental note to chide Martin when they next crossed paths, or, better yet. Talk to Amanda and go about the revenge that way…

“And, you know. I got to where I wanted, my next illustrated book comes out at the end of the year, and a wonderfully sexy man brought me a shop front that will soon be up and running as my very own Kid’s bookshop. We’re both, _there._ We made it. And I have an inkling that if we moved and acted on this in University, then maybe it wouldn’t be going quite as smoothly as it’s going now…” She pointed out.

Ben considered her point, it was true, University wasn’t really the most award winning place to start a serious relationship, and 16 years had given them all the time in the world to grow and shape as individual people, and best friends. But then again, there was always an opposing side to _every_ fair, well structured, argument…

“But that 16 year gap robbed me of being able to fuck an archaic, unruly, wickedly stubborn, beautifully passionate young, red spiky haired punk…” Ben pointed out.

“And I, never got to find out what it was like to shag the wiry, goofy likes of the shabby converse wearing, dramatic, rugger bugger type, aspiring actor…” She admitted in flaws as to her argument.

“Well. We can agree to disagree, our little gap was both a blessing and a curse…” Ben finalized.

“Here, here...” Libby yawned, stretching out, arching her back to press into his side as she woke up.

“Have we any plans for today?”

She asked, moving to sit up, and stretch her legs over the edge of the bed, cracking a few of her old joints and bones back into place, and moaning. Ben having knocked a few of her screws loose as they knocked boots last night. She peered out of his window, seeing the bright spring morning roll across the meadows opposite the house, the sky was cerulean blue, and cloudless like a warm oasis of colour streaked across the horizon, the sunshine reflected beautifully in the golden wheat fields, and rapeseed plants, growing in wild abandonment. It was truly a wonderfully lazy, colourful spring day. She rather favoured she would love taking it slow, with her boyfriend, and his parent’s, whom she adored.

Ben whined at the cold absence of her warmed naked skin not pressed up to his side, he frowned and grabbed her hips, pulling her back down onto him again. Filling his hard spaces of absence, with her peaks of supple warmth.

“It’s too nicer day to spend it in Bed, Benedict…”

She countered, not seeming to argue too much as she twisted to cup the side of his face and press a small affectionate kiss to his lips.

His hand reached up to cart through the knotted thick tresses of her hair, cradling the back of her head as he deepened the kiss, his body starting to waken and twitch with love and rousing. He was being kissed awake by her, and he loved it.

“I need to have a shower if I am going to be facing any unfortunate, and unsuspecting members of the human race today...” She smiled, shucking the covers off and pulling on her dressing gown at the top of her case.

“Well I think you look lovely...”

Ben spoke softly, because she did. A tangle of chaotic red hair, pale love bitten skin, smelling of sex and sleep, and her own great and sweet perfume. With that great smile of hers before she was properly awake, it was unguarded and amazing. One of his favourite things to look at.

“You always think I look lovely…”

She pointed out with a kind smile, and the slight of an unspoken plea for him never to stop doing so.

“I’m not a liar. You just always happen to look that way, to me…”

He smiled, leaning up and hinting for a kiss, which she granted, hands on either side of his face leaning down as she chuckled into his kiss.

“Stop being so damn perfect you. My heart can’t take it when you’re naked and handsome, and purring sweet things to me. Fries my brain cells, makes me a silly willed female…”

She complimented, stroking one sharpened zygoma with her thumb.

“Well, lord knows I only like you for your sweet ass, and your sensible brain. Everything else is just white noise to me.” He smirked.

“I won’t be long…” She chuckled, grabbing her wash bag and heading for the door.

“I don’t expect to find you and those girls in your wardrobe canoodling, when I get back…”

She warned, pointing a stern finger with a kind smile from around his doorframe.

“Incentive for you to hurry then, my attention could be swayed…” He warned.

“You wouldn’t dare...” Libby winked. Disappearing round the door.

 _No I wouldn’t_. He thought to himself. Smiling.

He turned to the right and looked at the cheesy pictures of the blonde barely dressed women posing provocatively.

“Sorry Ladies…” He apologized, rolling onto his left side away from them, and curling into the pillow next to him that smelt wonderfully like Libby.

“I’m taken…” He purred into her pillow with a smile as he dozed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wanda was busy watering the little flower pots of wild daisies and lavender that littered the back patio, when she heard bare feet pad across the wooden floor, heading out to where she was stood with her watering can in the early morning sun, she turned on hearing the deep male voice stifle a large yawn, she smiled seeing her Son walk out towards her in the bright sun. He was never an early bird, unlike both his parents.

“Morning dear...”

Wanda chuckled, seeing his hair mussed, and the fact he had pulled on his t – shirt so carelessly, it needed a good iron – and it was inside out. He also wore rumpled pajama pants, an indication that he wasn’t long since up.

Benedict nodded through a yawn, smiling lazily afterwards, squinting at the bright sun so wrinkles formed around his eyes, leaving Wanda to wonder if he was truly her grown up son, rather than the boy she knew him as.

“Sleep alright?”

Wanda asked innocently. Ben inwardly smirked as he recalled the mind melting orgasm Libby had given him.

“Like a log.” He smiled softly.

“Jolly good. We replaced the mattress in there, finally. Got rid of that old squeaky thing you used to have as a boy…” She finished, paying attention to dripping water on her gerberas.

Ben nodded in final realization, he thought the mattress felt different, and it certainly didn’t squeak as much as the old one did. He rather gathered that given how thoroughly they tested that one out last night, adding a loud creaking mattress into the equation and it would be a whole lot harder to hide what they were getting up too…

“I trust Libby slept alright aswell? You were playing that bloody racket so loud last night, I almost came in to tell you to turn it down…”

Ben smiled, relieved she hadn’t.

“Yes, she slept fine too. She’s in the shower now, getting ready.” Ben smiled.

“I do love her Ben, I’m so glad you two stopped assing about and decided to just go at it. Oh, to be young and in love again. Me and your father used to be like that you know, madly in love, unable to keep our hands off each other… But, as they say, age should be no hindrance to love making…” She spoke with a smile.

Ben winced, face falling.

“Welcome to tonight’s episode of ‘things I never wanted to know about my parent’s’…” Ben joked, head falling into his hands. Voice muffled by his fingers.

“Oh, don’t be silly! You think I’m that daft? I knew you two didn’t go to bed to _‘sleep’_ you know. I’m not the old fuddy duddy you take me for.” She beamed, eyes sparkling with wisdom and mischief.

“Mother, I beg you, stop talking. And please, nothing happened last night, we actually did go to sleep early…” Ben persisted. Trying not to tint pink at lying to his own mother.

“Well, you’ve been in love with her Since College, I wouldn’t be surprised if you did happen to have a restless night, you were in the same bed together after all, and you can’t keep your hands off her as it is…” She assured, making sure her lilies were moist enough.

“Let’s _PLEASE_ change the subject…” He implored.

“You have no compassion for your dear old parent’s Benedict…” She chided quietly with a chuckle.

“Besides, I meant to convey how much I loved Libby, not to make you feel terribly embarrassed. Me and your Father were talking about it last night, would you please marry her and give us some grandbabies?” She asked seriously.

He began to protest, but she verbally assaulted him into silence with her words, and one stern motherly look.

“Benedict, I know you Love that woman, I can see it in your eyes, and when you’re with her, it really bleeds through in your body language, and you _adore_ her. And that skinny green eyed stick who you were going to marry previously, well, I’m sorry to bring this up, but, that aggrieved me, my darling, Because she wasn’t for you. She wasn’t right. And Libby, my love, She’s the woman for you. You deserve your happiness with her Ben. That’s all I ever wanted, was for you to be happy, and if you get to be that with her, then I am the happiest Mother on earth…”

Ben smiled, leaning forwards and kissing her forehead.

“I’ll work on it, how’s that?” He asked.

“Still not good enough...” She persisted stonily. Ben laughed.

“Any set plans for us today?” Ben asked, smiling softly at his mother.

“Well, I thought we could go for a walk while I stick the roast chicken in the oven. Come back, have a spot of lunch, then maybe either take a drive out somewhere, or stick something good on the telly?” Wanda spoke kindly, placing her watering can down.

Ben thought about curling up on the sofa with Libby, after a belly full of his mother’s roast dinner, watching an old movie and curving into his sexy girlfriend by his side, watching the romance and splendor of one of the Hollywood greats on a lazy Sunday afternoon. In other words, that sounded like _perfection_ to him.

“That sounds… ideal” Ben spoke, folding his mother in for a hug.

She laughed and patted his chest, smiling as she allowed herself to be enveloped into a hug.

“You soppy old thing.” She fussed, laughing.

Ben pulled away smiling.

“See? Now what did I tell you? That lovely woman of yours brings out the best in you. You were never happy like this with any of the others, you mark my words…” She berated.

“Consider them marked.” He spoke gently. “And I will do my best to keep you happy, mother.” He smiled. Knowing full well what that meant for both him and Libby.

Wanda smiled confidently. Knowing he was uttering words of pure, unfiltered truth.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 ~

 

 

 

 

 

Libby had just finished bending down to shave her legs, placing the razor back on the side and stepping back into the heated stream of hot water jets, reaching for the shampoo to lather up her wet hair, humming softly to herself, half between singing and half humming, ‘In for the Kill’ By La Roux. She had just tucked her hair behind her ears and lathered her hands up when she heard the shower curtain rustle behind her, and she nearly jumped three feet in the air as a large warm, and wet pair of hands slid down to her rounded hips.

She yelped and turned to face a naked, and very wet Benedict leering at her, from over her shoulder. Stood behind her in the bathtub.

“Benedict…” She yelped softly and quietly.

His smile only grew wider and filthier.

“Didn’t you hear? New laws just introduced in Surrey. Water conservation, save water, shower together…”

He smirked, hands growing greedier as he reached down the dragged his hands over her ass to pull her closer to his own naked body.

She smacked his shoulder, wincing as her hand collided with hard muscles, and wet slippery skin. He stepped closer to her under the shower stream, his hair curling down with the weight of the water, turning very dark black as it curled over his forehead, the water spitting as it beated off his chest.

“Ok, why, may I ask, are you looking at me with that goofy, moony far off look in your eyes…”

Libby asked as he stepped close enough so his hands linked across her back, pressed hip to hip, chest to chest now, instead.

Benedict wouldn’t stop examining her eyes and smiling.

“I Love You.”

He spoke softly and meaningfully after a long minute. Holding this sexy girlfriend under his hands, skin warm, slippery and wet. The scent of her shower gel drowning his senses.

Libby blinked and did naught but smile, and curl her hands around his shoulder blades. They both knew they loved each other, in no uncertain terms, madly, wholly, they needed each other. They were best friends, they were whole worlds in themselves in the other person. Two halves of the same reflection. Their love the stuff great poets wrote of, the stuff musicians sung and wailed about. And even though they knew it was love, still hearing it burst out unexpectedly. It still melted her heart into a puddle of mush for him.

“Where’d that come from?”

Libby asked, lightly, with a smile, not meaning to sound quite as brash as it came out. But minutes ago when she left him in his bedroom, he was making jokes about his teen porno posters. Where had love suddenly sprung out of it?

Ben just smiled, looking like a mad lovesick fool. Hands curving over the back of her wet dark red hair, cupping her head and sliding his hands around to the side of her face. He loved this sight, her skin wet and flushed pink from the heat of the shower, eyes surrounded by dewy wet long eyelashes, looking as blue as ever.

“I know that, regarding all intent and purposes, that we are moving light years faster than any couple of four weeks should be, and what I said last night, it wasn’t just the afterglow of sex, and I know that my excuse can’t be ‘I wasn’t thinking clearly’ because I was, _nothing, not ever_ , had been clearer to me. I want you, Libby. I need you. I can’t have a life, if you are not in _it_. And I know this sounds optimistic, but, I really, think this is it for us, and, I’m sorry if that’s scary, unsettling, or mad…But, it’s the cold hard truth. And I realize, I come with a package deal… One very large, very intimidating job and barely any privacy to speak of. And yet, I would give that all away just for one life with you. Just you. You’re all I love, and you’re all I want. So… that’s why, I Love you.”

Libby sighed happily, curling a strand of hair back over his ear.

“I’m not scared of the speed we’re moving at Ben. I adore it, as a matter of fact. And I know that’s, all kinds of _insane_ , but this feels natural to me, we feel so right and good together. I know, I can’t help but be a tiny bit intimidated by your job, and the vast prospect of it all. But, now, you listen to me, my reasons for running are by far outnumbered by my reasons for staying, Ok? And don’t you dare for one second talk about giving up your job for me, Ben. I will not be the reason this world is deprived of you, because no matter how much I love you, your dream job and what you can do, shouldn’t be caged. I won’t be the woman who hides you away from the world, I’ll share you gladly. All I want in return is, you. In no uncertain terms. All of _you_ , my darling. Or at least, each part you’re willing to give.”

Ben’s hands linked theirs, gently placed a kiss on her knuckles, and closed it over where her heart lay beating in his chest.

“All.” He spoke softly.

Ben smiled. And so did she.

“And, you could have picked a more appropriate time to announce this fact, we are both wet and naked…” She added in laughter.

Ben enclosed his hands around her hips again.

“It’s as good a time, as any.” He promised flirtily.

Libby rather tended to favour, that once this confession entered his head, he had to say it, no matter where, or when. The words had to burst out of him and encourage her to listen to the heavy gravity of them. She loved that about him, he was so consumed by love, he couldn’t even wait to tell her.

“Don’t think that in, _any way_ , distracts me from the fact, you slunk in here, and your parent’s are still downstairs...” She warned as he leered close to kiss her.

“Actually, my intentions were innocent. I just had to tell you.” He shrugged.

“Well, that’s a first...” Libby spoke in believable surprise.

“Now you bring it up, however, you _sexpot…”_ He purred.

“Ben…” She chided sternly.

He smiled, and rolled his eyes.

“Then, atleast let me help you wash? I give a mean head massage...” He raised his brows, waggling them in promise.

Libby shoved her bottle of peach shampoo in his hands.

“And I will hold you to that…” She winked.

 


	8. Bowie, Baby Pictures, and Dangerous High Places..

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben gets an 'Owwie' also sunday roast with the parent's, and Frank Capra's, It's a wonderful life....

 

 

After a – surprisingly – sex free shower, in which Libby and Ben kindly and gently washed each other’s wet skin, lovingly and without – _much_ – lust. They clambered out, dried off, dressed, and went back downstairs to help Wanda prepare Lunch. All three of them stood in the Kitchen, Ben under the false pretence of attempting to cook whilst Libby and his Mother took over the cooking preparation, completely. They laughed about one of Ben’s funny stories when his mother asked about his work, telling the funny tale of how he had once ended up with his eyes nearly glued shut after a malfunction with some wig glue that was far too liquid for its own good. Libby chuckled remembering that night, she forced him to lie back on his sofa, held a dish to his face and tried to mop out the glue with a water soaked flannel, trying to ignore his flailing and fussing. Wanda smiled and laughed along with them, they then moved on to tell her about the time when Libby got herself locked out of their Uni student house, sans trousers, and had to shimmy her way in through the back broken, bathroom window in her pants, it was quite an eventful evening after she triggered the burglar alarm and had to then stand and talk to the police, in very tiny, very inappropriate, red pants with the word’s “Kiss My @ss, Punk’ written on the back. Ben snorted with merriment as he remembered they wouldn’t let her put her trousers on until she persuaded them that she _wasn’t_ actually attempting _to rob_ the house. Wanda had laughed all the more at that one as her and Libby peeled potatoes for the pan.

“So then, Ben had to sprint along the road, shouting at the top of his lungs after the postman, waving his arms like a madman, half of his bowl of cornflakes spilled down his shirt… and he was wearing no shoes as he tore down the street after the red van….”

Libby laughed, so did Wanda as she recalled to them the time that Ben had to race down the road after the postmen when they were at Uni, to get his final year drama results that had been posted to him by the exam board. Ben had overslept and had missed the postman by two minutes. Having to suffice by tearing after it down the street.

“I pulled so many hamstrings that day…”

Ben recalled, sliding the chicken into the oven. Smiling with them both at his embarrassing memory.

“I pulled a stomach muscle I laughed so hard…” Libby beamed, peeling carrots.

“Yeah, yeah, still don’t understand why I wasn’t put on MU running team for that…” Ben spoke in good, serious humour.

“That’s because you got home, red as a tomato clutching a wrinkled brown envelope, and nearly passed out on the doorstep you were so unfit and out of breath… and I kill you remember you spent the next week lounged on the sofa with ice packs on your legs…” Libby smiled, leaning against the counter with one hand on her hip.

Wanda laughed merrily with delight at the image.

“No, you were never one for the sports teams as a boy, were you Benedict?”

Wanda chuckled, patting her Son’s stomach in comfort as she breezed past.

“Not then, and not since…”

Libby finished, smiling, turning to chop the carrots, and parsnips. Ben stumbled over and nudged her in the back with his elbow. She had the feeling, had they not been in present company, with his mother acting as a chaperone, then the punishment would have been a light spank to her ass, she was sure of it.

“Hey, enough out of you, Red.” He chuckled, winking at her so his mother couldn’t see.

“Oh, Libby, you mustn’t let him bully you, Why, I can tell you many a story about this one as a boy.”

Libby smiled at Wanda, looking to Ben to see his hand hold the bridge of his nose.

“Mother…” He warned in a low voice, becoming embarrassed at the prospect.

“Wasn’t there that year you decided who you were finally going to be when you grew up? _oh, who’s_ that singer with the weird eyes and, dresses up like a clown?” Wanda wondered.

“David Bowie?” Libby asked, lip wobbling, on the verge of laughing her ass off.

“Oh, that’s the one! Yes! Anyway, I can remember when you were about 12, you turned around one day and decided you wanted to be him! You insisted since you had red hair as a boy, that it was meant to be, wandered round all year singing ‘Starman’ as I remember…” Wanda finished.

Libby tilted her head and gave Ben a slow, ear splitting smile.

“Bowie?”

She quivered, fighting not to let her laughter rip out of her and letting her kidneys fall out as her sides split with laughter.

“ _Don’t. You. Dare_.” Ben growled in a low, wild voice to her.

“… Oh, and then, there was the year of 1989, the year you became besotted with that Blonde woman on that beach programme with David Hasselhoff…”

“Ah, I knew about the Pamela Anderson crush…” Libby beamed.

Ben simply shrugged.

“I was a young, misguided boy…. Pulled into the throes of Love….” He insisted. Feebly making an attempt to defend himself.

“The fact she was buxom, and always wore a swimsuit in that programme had nothing to do with it?” Wanda asked cheekily, silvery eyes glittering with wisdom.

“I expected such razor sharp wit from my girlfriend, mother, but _not_ from you…” He admitted, pointing suspiciously at the elder woman.

Libby chuckled wickedly, Wanda was indeed a woman to go against…

“…And your favourite Disney video, when you were little, was Snow White, although, you did cry every time when the wicked witch came on….” Wanda carried on.

Libby could hear Ben growl, low in his throat, and quiet, mind…. but _a growl_ it was, _nonetheless_.

Libby slung an arm around Ben’s waist, holding him close and listening to his growls subside. They all knew Wanda was only recollecting, humouring him with a light hearted nudge in the ribs. Libby winked at him. He caught it and smiled softly.

Wanda caught her Son’s embarrassment and smiled warmly at him.

“Oh, stop being so easily riled up, you ninny…” She chuckled fondly.

“Yeah, everyone has embarrassing moments in their childhood Ben, for god’s sake, I snuck out of school and went to a _Madness concert_ one day, when I was 15, and they were my all-time favourite band at the time, I cried with happiness when they came on stage, you don’t get _much lower_ than _that_ …” Libby confessed.

Ben snorted with laughter.

“ _Madness? Really?_ You shed tears of joy for _madness_?” He asked, smirking.

“Yes, I did. And the 15 year old me thought it was glorious…” She defended. Kissing him on the cheek.

Wanda laughed warmly at her.

“You’ll all get your comeuppance one day, for mocking me…” He announced loudly, and in good humour.

“You especially…” He purred to Libby, prodding her in the tummy.

“Don’t you threaten me young man, I have in my arsenal of motherly defences, baby pictures of you in the bath…” Wanda reminded.

“On second thoughts, No comeuppance for you, mother dearest…” Ben added quickly. Moving to try and cover Libby’s ears so she wouldn’t be able to hear that Wanda was armed with toddler photographs of him.

“Ahhh, no Ben! Please, can we see them after dinner?” Libby asked Wanda.

He knew he was fighting a losing battle now….

“I have three full photo albums….” Wanda winked, smiling wickedly, moving off to fetch a plate from the far side of the kitchen.

Libby then turned to Ben, who was shaking his head.

“I’ll give you money…” He begged, offering her material goods instead of his baby pictures.

Libby beamed, shaking her head. “Nope.” She smirked.

“Sexual favours? I’ll give you orgasms… many, _MANY, screaming at the top of your lungs, sheet clawing, mind melting, and life alteringly great orgasms….._ ”

He purred privately, snarling his dirty promise in her ear softly, so his mother’s ears wouldn’t pick up on his speech. His hand clawing into her ass as his mother’s back was turned.

“Still no.” Libby smiled evilly.

He whimpered, clinging onto her arm. Begging her, nearly. He would grovel on his knees should it come to that. Right here on his parent’s kitchen floor.

“I’ll buy you, a, puppy?” He whined.

“I’m not listening to you anymore…” She laughed, turning to chop and peel more parsnips.

“Libby, please, if you have any compassion left in you, at all….”

She didn’t answer, she just smiled, focusing on dicing the vegetables in the dish in front of her.

Ben could hear she was humming something, it was only as he leaned closer that he could hear her.

“ _Didn't know what time it was, the lights were low oh-hoh….”_

Ben’s face fell.

“Stop it.” He pushed in a low serious voice.

“ _I leaned back on my radio-oh-oh…”_ She sang.

“No, Libby! I mean it, stop it.” He groaned tersely as she carried on singing…

 

 

 

 

 ~

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They were all busy helping to put away Dinner, after a wonderful roast, and Wanda had finally coerced Timothy into coming inside for lunch and not ‘pottering around in his shed’ and now, they were a train of workers busying themselves in the kitchen, Ben was putting bowls away on the high shelfs as he was the only one who could reach as Libby handed them to him, Wanda was loading the dishwasher, and Timothy was busy cling wrapping the leftover food to go in the fridge.

“So, I know this may sound a little brash, and a tad slapdash, dear…” Wanda spoke to Libby as they stood side by side replacing bowls to their rightful place in the cupboards.

“… But, I was, going to ask if you had any plans for Christmas this year?…” She began, wiping off a bowl. “… I mean, obviously now you have to divide between two houses, as a couple, but, if you weren’t, my dear. Well. Timothy and I would adore to have you and, Ben, of course, Here.” She cooed softly.

Libby smiled. Heartened.

“My parents are in New york for Christmas and New Years, late anniversary celebration…” Libby explained. “We, and I, would adore to be here for Christmas, Wanda…Thankyou” Libby smiled. Incredibly touched by the gesture.

“Wonderful.” Wanda smiled right back.

“Oh, did I tell you I found a recipe in good food the other day, and I instantly thought of you, It was lemon and poppyseed muffins…” Libby smiled warmly.

“With blueberries? Oh they were magnificent, I made them the other day, a little dry, I think I was too stingy with the lemon juice…” Wanda explained with a smile.

The two of them were constantly swapping cooking recipes, nattering on, as Ben had said, some that hadn’t even gotten outside the family circle, _that’s_ how highly classed Libby was in the Cumberbatch clan. And she suddenly felt very foolish for being so nervous about the weekend, because at the end of they day, Timothy and Wanda couldn’t care what clothes she was wearing, or if they showed – a reasonable – amount of affection in front of them, because, if they were both happy, If Ben was happy, then they had no cares in the world. And that was truly wonderful…

Benedict and Timothy were stood the other side of the kitchen, watching to two women gabble away at the speed of light.

“Well, I’m not saying that we don’t in any way, But I think your mother approves…” Timothy chuckled to his son.

“She made that clear when she offered Libby my baby photos…”

“No stopping that woman, dear boy, you know that…” He added. Seeing his son smile in acceptance.

Ben laughed.

“So, how is it going with the two of you, I got the reader’s digest version from your other, and then the ghettysburg address on our hythetical grandchildren.”

“Your wife is merciless…” Ben added in astonishment.

“Not as merciless as _your_ mother…” Timothy insisted.

Ben chuckled at that.

“To answer your question…” Ben began, stratching up to place a mixing bowl back home where it belonged.

“It is exhilerating, terrifying, amazing, all consuming, and everything I ever thought it would be…” He explained, watching Libby smile.

“Terrifying?” Timothy laughed in disbelief.

“I’d call Libby many things Ben, giftedly stubborn maybe, but ‘terrifying’ wouldn’t be one of them….” He laughed.

“No, I just meant that….” Ben sighed, happily, watching her laugh with his mother.

“… I wake up every day, and I have to shake myself to believe she’s there, and wants me. It is terrifying because, after all those misguided teen years of dreaming it, its finally true, and I would sell my soul to ensure I don’t, cock it up.” Ben explained to his dad.

“You must understand what that’s like, surely?…” He asked.

Timothy clapped a hand on his son’s shoulder, smiling.

“My dear boy, the day I married your mother, I was beside myself with nerves. Couldn’t sleep, eat, could barely dress myself. But just hearing her say, yes, was, everything I’d dreamed it to be. I can see it in her eyes when she looks at you, Ben, and believe me, that woman isn’t going anywhere. She wants you, just as much as you do, her.”

“Am I a lovesick fool?” Ben asked with a smile.

“Yes.” Timothy answered seriously.

“And I don’t know about you, Son, but theres no other kind of fool I’d be, myself…”

He explained. The both of them looking at the women in their lives stood across the kitchen.

“Cheers to that.” Ben spoke, not taking his eyes off Libby, with a small smile.

“Oh, here, this ones top cupboard to the left…” Tim said, handing Ben a large sturdy wooden bowl.

He took it from his father’s hands, and leaned up to place it back, teeterig it on the edge of the shelf, when Libby laugh pulled his attention to the side, he turned to look, taking his focus – and sense of balance – away from the bowls above his head, and that’s when his hand slipped…

All Wanda and Libby heard was an almighty crash, as half the contents of the cupbard suddenly unloaded onto Benedict’s head.

As the crashing finally subsided, all they heard was a clumsy, aloof and small ‘ _Ow’_ echo through the din of the clashing the broken bowls made. And Libby and Wanda’s mouths were gaping.

“I’ll get the broom…” Timothy offered weakly. Clapping his son gently on the shoulder as he clutched his head.

“There are probably more appropriate times to be a lovesick fool, Ben, doing it when loading a heavy object into a highly placed cupboard isnt one of them…” He chided.

 

“Thanks Dad…” Ben groaned in pain.

 

 


	9. Concussion Silliness, Old Films and Goodbyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It comes time for Libby and Ben to leave the lovely parent's. and return to London. But not before one heart-warming incident occurs...

 

 

“Ow, OW, _Ow OWOWW!_ ”

“Oh, grow, a pair, Batch. I‘ve barely touched you…”

“That’s easy for you to say, you didn’t just have a solid copper mixing bowl plummet onto your cranium.” Ben groaned.

“Well, If I were you, I’d pay a bit more attention when placing things back in high places, where, ultimately, gravity has the upper hand advantage…” Libby added.

Benedict grumped. Hating that she was right.

He was led horizontally on his parent’s sofa, with Libby perched near his hip, leaning over him to dab the blood away from the small tender cut to his right eyebrow. Wanda and Tim were clearing up the broken shards of crockery from the kitchen floor, Libby had offered to patch him up. Swaying his long frame onto the sofa as he staggered dizzily about after the heavy bowl, and another smashed down upon his forehead. She had fetched the medical tin, ironically from a high shelf, and now, here they sat.

It wasn’t a terribly large wound, about 5cm long, from halfway down his forehead, missing his eye, and ending just under his right eye socket. The broken shard of the bowl that fell before the huge copper one, was the suspect that gave him the nasty cut.

“You’ll be lucky to escape concussion, you clumsy twit, If you get any worse, I’m taking you straight to A&E…” She insisted.

“..And here, when I pictured you nursing me, I didn’t imagine you would tell me off quite so much…”

He admitted, his hand curving over her lap, to stroke over her rounded right hip, feeling down over the side of her bottom with soft strokes.

“What did you picture?”

She asked with a small smile, looking over him as she carefully swabbed near the purple bruise that was starting to form.

“Very Florence Nightingale-esque, Mopping my fevered brow, soothingly carting a hand through my hair, holding an oil lantern…”

“How very 18th Century…” Libby smiled, going back to the tin for gauze.

“Of course, there's always you in a naughty nurse outfit… red fishnet stockings, a tight little white _see through_ dress, cute hat…. Inappropriately low cut neckline, sky high hot red heels…. But still mopping my fevered brow.” He beamed in fantasy.

He winced and whined as she accidentally caught the edge of the raw painful bruise.

“I think I liked the Florence Nightingale persona better…” Libby growled in a low voice.

“The other one sounds like a start to a bad porno movie…” She chided with a smile as Ben beamed up at her.

“Exactly my point.” He purred, stroking intimately down her thigh.

Libby ignored him with a soft smile.

“Also, later on, I may require a sponge bath, nurse…” Ben grinned.

Libby gave him a hearty whack in the stomach. He chuckled and pressed her hand there, holding it with his own. The blood soaked swab clutched in her hand.

“Well, whatever method of your nursing I pictured, any image was certainly more intimate than punching me in the stomach, I may have a gastic ulcer thanks to you, now…”

Libby rolled her eyes smiling.

“What do you mean by, intimate?” She asked

“Just more, loving, more… innermost…. A true wounded lovers moment… the fair maiden oatching up her wounded knight, before they make glorious love…” Ben smiled jokingly.

Libby rolled her eyes and scoffed in frustration. Before taking both his hands and placing them over her breasts through her dress as she continued to clean up his cut.

“Well, that’s better…” He smirked.

His eyes darkened and his hands settled after a moment, rolling her flesh, feeling her, mapping her out under his palms. His touch making her breath skip, but not that she was letting him know it.

“Innermost enough for you?...”

Libby asked, moving around to inspect his head again, turning his chin almost completely to her left side so she could see his wound more clearly. All the while Ben’s eyes, and hands, didn’t leave her. Not even for one second.

She was very aware he was blinking up at her through his fan of long eyelashes, giving her his blue sorry eyed look.

She was more focused on his forehead.

“Why are you giving me your hurt puppy dog, look?” She asked tersely in wonder.

“I’m sure there's a Mother Teresa joke to be made here, at some point.” Ben added, smiling gently up at her.

“And you’re just the man to make it…” Libby smiled.

Looking down into his eyes now, as a fetching curl of red drooped over her forehead, Ben reached to curve it back, softly stoking over her cheek.

“You know what I do, sometimes?” He spoke sincerely.

“What’s that?” She asked softly.

“I just look at you, just. Look. Look at your pretty face, your wonderful eyes, or your perfect _perfect_ red hair. Sometimes it when we’re sat on the sofa watching a movie, or eating dinner even, or even if we’re in the same room, yards apart from one another. I just look at you, and I think. ‘Shes mine.’ This beautiful, stunning, sexy, slender creature, is all _mine_.” He spoke warmly and fondly.

Libby smiled and wet her lips.

“That’s sweet, Ben.” She spoke gently. “A tad Ted Bundy –esque, perhaps. But sweet all the same…”

“I was having a moment.” He snipped tersely, and grumpily.

“I know you were baby.” She cupped his face, chuckling in humour to his sentimental outburst, leaning down to kiss near his injured forehead.

“Now tell me, were you having your Bundy-esque moment when you were putting that bowl back?”

Libby asked, moving to wring out the wet cloth into a bowl by her side on the coffee table.

“No..” Ben finished quickly.

She tilted her head, smiling. Blue eyes glinting at him.

“Perhaps. Yes, a bit.” He grinned manically.

“So, I am the reason that a large bowl nearly split your head open?” She asked, moving the wipe more blood away.

“Now you mention it…” He said seriously.

“Well, I’ll be sure to owe you some comeuppance then, Won’t I?” She asked with a kind smile.

“I was going to angle it out of you with guilt eventually, I could have brain damage, you know, thanks to you..” He smiled jokingly.

“Well, I’m sorry to be so distracting, t’was not my intention…” She smiled.

“I’ve suddenly forgotten half the alphabet… What comes after D?” He asked.

Libby laughed.

“ha ha, very funny, I’ll pay my due’s to you, soon, I promise..” Libby commented dryly.

“…And also, I have suddenly forgotten how to spell snorkel?” He japed.

“Benedict…” She breathed through a laugh.

“Woman, what be your name? what place of man be this?”

He kidded. Looking around the room in a joky startled manner.

She hit his arm.

“Why do’ust thou strike me so, my lady? Do’es thee have an ill wish ‘gainst my thriving impermanence?”

He flailed, voice going deep and dramatic.

“Now you sound like Tom…” She admitted.

Ben’s mouth pulled sideways in a smirk.

“Sorry, that’s just my oncoming brain haemorrhage talking…”

He said seriously.

“How can you me a master of seduction one minute, and a massive nerd the next? Only I’ve always wondered….”

Libby spoke, moving to stand up with the bowl in her hand. Skirting round the sofa with Ben’s hands sliding away from her.

“My deeply Thespian Personality..”

He answered, tilting his head back to look at her, following her around the room with his eyes.

Libby stood at the end of the sofa. Smiling down at him, as he reached for the hem of her dress and pulled her closer, examining her from upside down with a smile.

“I think I may need cognitive recalibration…” He purred.

“You need me to whack you over the head again, cause I’m all up for that..” Libby teased cruelly.

“I was thinking you could pioneer a new cognitive method in medicine, whereby somehow coming about results by kissing me very hard on the lips and see if that makes any difference…” Ben smirked.

His hand was reeling her skirt closer now, hand smoothing up the front of her thigh, She stepped closer and touched her free hand to the top of his hair.

“I’ve never been one for pioneering, myself…” She teased, fully having every intention of kissing him.

“Never know until you try…”

Ben begged, pulling her down by fisting a hand to the chest of her dress, tugging her down to meet his mouth.

Even upside down, the kisses were still wonderful, he smiled into her lips, tugging her bottom lip between his teeth as her hand stroked the side of his face. When they parted after a long while, they were left panting and wanting.

She smiled down at him.

“Stay here you nutcase, call me if you feel a haemorrhage coming on….” She joked, kissing him quickly one more time before she slunk away to the kitchen to empty the bowl of blood stained water, and help Timothy and Wanda clear up the mess on the floor.

His lips were still tingling long after she left, and his smile remained on his lips too.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They were rejoined by Ben’s parents not long after, and all four of them settled down onto comfy sofa’s and decided – by group consensus – to watch ‘Singin’ in the Rain’ one of Ben’s parent’s favourites. And so they did. Wanda insisted Benedict stay horizontal for a while, he complied, tugging Libby down onto his chest so they lay together, sandwiched close to watch the film. Libby noticed how his hand sought of hers and squeezed it tight when, ad a pivitol point in the film, Where Gene Kelly found Debbie reynolds again, after long weeks of searching, an he was professing his love for her, in a darkened and empty wharehouse, with the song ‘You were meant for me’. Libby was unable to ignore how appt the words were, and how Ben seemed to know it too. They shared a loving look, and a sweet short kiss during the song, before Libby laid her head back down on Ben’s chest, listening to his heartbeat thrum. It really had been a great weekend.

 

After the movie finished, Ben insisted that they make a move back to London before the late night traffic picked up, so they weren’t driving back into London, in rush hour. Libby insisted she would drive, due to Ben’s little head injury.

They were all stood by the car, cases stowed in the boot, and one of Wanda’s trifles buckled into the back seat. They were all hugging and swapping goodbyes, and Libby was just enveloping Timothy in a great big hug, commenting on how lovely his peonies were coming out. Wanda chose this opportunity to tug her son close, and hug him tight.

“Oh, we’ll miss you, as always…” she smiled, holding the side of his face.

Ben smiled. “I’ll miss you more mum, we’ll be back soon to visit, I promise.” He beamed.

“The both of you?” Wanda raised a brow.

“Without a doubt.” Ben winked.

“That’s my boy.” Wanda winked back.

“Don’t forget about Christmas, either…” Wanda reminded.

“How could I?” Benedict smiled.

They collapsed into a hug again, chuckling, before Wanda peered around her son to see Libb occupied. Now was the moment….

“Now listen, I have something to give you..”

She spoke quietly. Benedict frowned, wondering why her voice was so hushed.

She pulled out a small little box from her back pocket with an owl on it. What else? She loved owls…

When she opened the lid, Ben’s breath hitched as he saw a ring glittering inside. He had seen it many times as a child, it was the ring his great grandfather had given to his great grandmother, It had been sitting on his mother’s dressing ever since he was a boy. It was beautiful too, Art deco cut, small gold band, clutching a dark blue sapphire, that when it glinted in the sun, was the exact colour of Libby’s silky blue eyes…. Ben thought…

“Mum…” He asked astonished.

“I want you to give this to Libby…” She smiled warmly, her silvery wise eyes were looking moist.

His mouth gaped, he didn’t know what to say.

“Oh, I’m not saying drop to your knee right this very second, you twit! I don’t care if it’s five months from now, or ten years from now. But give it to her. For me, Benedict, do it for you dear old mother.”

“You’re sure you want me to?”

Ben offered, genteelly touching the side of the glinting ring. Brushing it softly with his fingertips.

“Oh it’s not exactly going far? Now, is it?”

Wanda smiled, eyes flickering over to Libby, who was busy inspecting Timothy’s well trimmed garden, with the man.

“…Besides, that ring is doing no good sat on my vanity collecting dust, it was meant to be worn, sparkling and gleaming, too pretty to waste, especially when it could be sat, gleaming on the hand of the woman you love. It’s a token of one of my family’s great love stories, Benedict, and now, it’s time it was a token of your great love story too.”

She cooed softly, snapping the box shut, and curling it into his palm. Ben looked up to see there were definitely tears in her eyes now.

All Ben could think was:

_She didn’t give it to him for Rachel, and he was so glad at that. Because when his and Libby’s time did come, this would be the one that stuck… well and truly…._

“ I Love you, Mother.” Ben smiled, swallowing his own tears and hugging his mother once again.

“…You know any woman in my life, no matter how great or saintly they are, is always second best to you…”

He spoke, kissing her forehead.

“I Love you too, Benedict. Now, go put that ring to good use, and give us some of yours and Libby’s babies, for _god’s sake…_ ”

Wanda spoke jokingly.

Ben squeezed her hand before he walked off to the car… trying to hide the fact the entire was home, that he had a ring tucked into his pocket that was intended to chronicle his, and Libby’s, love life.

Despite his hurting head, he smiled the entire way home.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> ANYWAY, thoughts, come on, let me hear them. Feed my inbox junkie personality my pretty's....


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